Unbroken: A Second Chance
by MasamuneZERO
Summary: Rapture, at the height of the Civil War. This is the setting Elizabeth finds herself in after the Vita-Chamber resurrected her, trapped in a city gone mad and between both Ryan and Atlas. And to make matters worse, she must rely on the man she hates most to survive. Suggest reading Bioshock Infinite: Unbroken first. Cover art commissioned from Radiant-Grey on Devianart.
1. A Disagreeable Partnership

**For new readers, this story is based off of and is tied into several other pieces of mine. If you're not sure where to start, I'd suggest finding Bioshock Infinite: Unbroken, as well as its prequel Unbroken: Song of Sorrow and the continuation Unbroken: I'm Home. Thanks for checking it out.**

 **Foreword: Hi there, and welcome to my newest story, A Second Chance. If you don't know, this story has its roots in chapter 5 of Those Left Behind, and you may be a little lost here if you haven't read it. There's a lot to say, but I'll get to that afterwards. I am thinking of changing the description for the story, and I will be getting a better cover image later.**

* * *

May 1, 1959

A long, downcast sigh parts ruby red lips, giving voice to Elizabeth's exhaustion as she trudges through the grime-coated sewers beneath Olympus Heights. The place smells putrid and of decay, as foul as it did when she first entered the sewers, and Elizabeth still occasionally wrinkles her nose at the odor even though her sense of smell has long since been desensitized from constant exposure. And as if the smell wasn't enough, she's exhausted after being on the run for the past day, and the pervasive sense of numbness that's been holding Elizabeth fast leaves her feeling miserable. But there's one emotion that still cuts through the misery, and it burns as hot as ever.

Elizabeth shoots a hateful glare over her shoulder at her 'companion', the man following a few steps behind her and just gazing solemnly ahead. "Of all the people I could end up stuck with, why did it have to be _him_?" Cursing quietly, Elizabeth takes her hate filled gaze from Zachary Comstock, turning back to the darkened tunnel ahead of her; she and Comstock have been keeping a low profile ever since they escaped from Andrew Ryan and Hephaestus, the Lamb and the Prophet stealing through dark maintenance and service tunnels, crawling through vents and even using the old Rapture Metro for a time to stay hidden, though they've been forced on occasion to slip through more populated areas.

She had been looking over her shoulder each and every time they left the dark tunnels, on the lookout for Ryan Security forces or anyone else who might wish her harm; she has no desire to be caught or meet this 'Atlas' who had purportedly tried to murder the other Elizabeth, and she's certain the man would most likely try to finish the job should he ever get his hands on her. Luckily, they'd managed to avoid contact with anyone during those brief times, though there had been a few close calls.

"We're being hunted, like rats in a leaking maze…" If not for the sense of numbness weighing her down, Elizabeth's sure the thought would have been disheartening, the young brunette breathing another weary, exasperated sigh as she lingers on how disconnected she's feeling. But despite her depressing situation, Elizabeth has yet to say more than two words to the man walking behind her. Comstock's kept quiet as well, only making a few hesitant attempts at conversation when they'd stopped to rest.

"Except to shout warnings…" Elizabeth's features twist into a disgusted scowl; their journey to Olympus heights had been as dangerous as it had been nerve-wracking, and more than a few Splicers had tried to accost them. The citizens of Rapture who'd succumbed to ADAM-induced madness often found refuge in the same forgotten places she and Comstock used to hide from Ryan, attacking Elizabeth and her companion every time without fail.

"And I still had to rely on _him…_ " The very thought turns her stomach as surely as her first whiff of the foul sewer did, Elizabeth's scowl only deepening; she'd been so confident before, in herself, her powers and her sight, but what did that lead to? Her being thrown through a wall by that lumbering behemoth, the beast reminiscent of Songbird; the irony of being killed by something like the creature made to protect her is not lost on Elizabeth.

The memories of her death had returned shortly after escaping Ryan's clutches, and Elizabeth has to wonder if this is how Booker felt whenever he 'remembered' one of his other selves' death.

"And now, what am I left with?" Holding up her right hand, Elizabeth stares forlornly at her restored little finger, "My powers are gone, and the doors are closed… I can't even see them anymore… and I have to depend on that… that monster…" Something stirs within Elizabeth, unexpected emotions pushing through the numbness and causing her eyes to sting; grief, despair and a sense of helplessness.

She'd never wanted to feel this way again, and Elizabeth's reminded all too well of her captivity in Comstock House; she'd also been helpless there, despite the powers she'd had at her fingertips. "After everything I went through with Booker, why am I so… so powerless!" Tears gather at the corner of her eyes, Elizabeth wiping at her nose with the back of her hand and sniffling quietly.

"You alright?"

Comstock's voice is quiet as he asks, the man somehow managing to sound genuinely concerned. But hearing Comstock use that voice just makes Elizabeth's blood boil, the anger helping to push aside her fears and sorrow, and she just shoots the Prophet another hateful glare, "Leave me-"

A growl cuts her off, rumbling in the otherwise silent sewer tunnel. But it doesn't belong to some hungry animal or bestial Splicer; warmth spreads across Elizabeth's cheeks, the Lamb of Columbia touching a hand to her complaining stomach.

Although Comstock's managed to gather a few dollars from the Splicers he'd killed, neither of them have had the luxury of visiting a Circus of Value machine, both the Prophet and Elizabeth surviving on whatever they could scrounge up along the way. Unfortunately, the forgotten recesses of Rapture usually yielded slim pickings, and this sewer had been completely devoid of anything even resembling nourishment.

"Dammit…" Cursing under her breath, Elizabeth hurries down the tunnel and away from Comstock, the clacking of her heels on the stone tile floor echoing in the darkness of the sewer and drowning out the quiet sounds of dripping or flowing water. Though, Elizabeth's hesitant to call the substance flowing down the lowered middle of the tunnels 'water'. The stone walkway on either side of the narrow channel is made up of nested, identical square patterns and divided into quarters, though the furrows making up the designs are nearly filled with gunk and mold.

The embarrassing noise had taken all the air out of her sails, and Elizabeth frowns as the depressing numbness seems to fill the gap anger had left. "The sooner I'm clear of this place, the better…" The tunnel suddenly widens, and Elizabeth takes a right and another left to keep following the channel, the young woman not seeing any other way to go despite the change. And Elizabeth blinks in surprise as she turns the last corner, light streaming into the dank darkness and coming from the top of a sloping ramp. But she has to squint, her eyes sensitive after trudging through the gloom for so long.

"Finally…" Hurrying up the narrow walkway on the side of the ramp, Elizabeth steps out onto the brightly lit tramway of Olympus Heights. And beyond a decorated column rising up to the thick glass and steel frame ceiling lies the entrance to Athena's Glory, the place Elizabeth's been trying to reach for lack of a better option; the place had never been what she'd call a 'home', but Elizabeth still feels a touch better thinking of the suite she used to live in. "At least there's a shower and a bed…"

"Oh my… doesn't she look a fright…? They just let anyone live here now…"

"Indeed… if I didn't know better, I'd think she would be more at home with the dregs living in Apollo Square. But I've seen her around before…"

"Huh?" Looking around the busy tramway, Elizabeth spots a pair of well-dressed women waiting for the tram near Athena's Glory and whispering while sneaking glances at her, both of them looking right at home in Olympus Heights. And it takes the exhausted brunette a moment to catch their meaning, Elizabeth looking down at herself hesitantly; her long-sleeved white blouse is now anything but, the accumulation of the past day's crawling through Rapture's underbelly leaving her ensemble tarnished black, brown and gray. "It's a miracle I didn't get caught on anything…"

Footsteps come from down the slope, and Elizabeth's mood darkens as Comstock comes up behind her. At any other time, Elizabeth would refuse to have her back to the bastard, but after the events of the past day, she's come to realize there's not much choice in the matter; Comstock seems dead set on following her, and the former Prophet seems to have no idea where to go or what to do now. "Although… I don't have any grand plans of my own, either…"

But Elizabeth shakes her head, refusing to let her thoughts dwell on Comstock, not now; she can barely remember what it's like to be among people again, of being among normal folk going about their lives. It's a far cry from the forgotten passages and dead Splicers she'd been facing, both during the past day and on New Year's Eve, and the normalcy of everyday lives somehow gives the abused Elizabeth a small sense of comfort.

"Can you believe those goddamn Parasites? As if the Kashmir bombing and Atlas' fight with Ryan weren't enough…"

Elizabeth stops at the mention of Atlas, her eyes darting around the lively tramway until she spots a stern-looking man in a gray business suit and fedora stepping out of Athena's Glory, a woman wearing a long-sleeved yellow and purple dress with short blonde curls at his side. One of the small, windowed trams is pulling up on Elizabeth's right as they approach, and the young woman gets the sense of a husband going off to work. "What time is it, anyway?"

"I know! The nerve of some people…" The blonde woman nods emphatically, her voice sounding to Elizabeth a little high-strung, "It's bad enough, with all the chaos they've caused, but to collapse the tunnel to the bathysphere station? The folks who live down that wing can still use it, but the rest of us have to use the Apollo Square station! Do they really hate us so much?"

"They're Parasite, dear; they're all alike, wanting from others what they can't get on their own. But you'll see," the fedora wearing man smirks, wrapping an arm around the woman's shoulders, "Ryan will see that they get their just desserts." He gives the blonde a quick peck on the cheek, "I'll be going to the race track after work, dear."

Elizabeth doesn't hear the woman's reply, her thoughts turning to the blocked off bathysphere station as the tram pulls up. "Damn… well, it's not as if I have pressing need to go anywhere…" A sigh escapes her, Elizabeth rubbing her face groggily.

"Hey, Elizabeth," Comstock's voice draws a scowl across Elizabeth's face as he steps into her field of vision, this twisted look-alike of Booker fixing those pale blue eyes on her, "what are we doing here?" A fair question, but Elizabeth's not about to humor him; she just glares at him again before stepping away, making for the entrance of Athena's glory. A sigh comes from behind her, Comstock muttering just loud enough for her to hear, "Lead the way…"

* * *

The courtyard of Athena's Glory looks much like its counterpart on the other side of Olympus Heights, the luxurious Mercury Suites. Fittingly, the place named after a goddess of wisdom and war is designed to evoke those images, the walls, ceiling and railings bear carvings and murals depicting books, a spear armed woman clad in armor, or the same woman wearing robes and extending an open hand. But little of this matters to Elizabeth at the moment, the Lamb trudging past the ten foot tall statue of Athena that stands in the center of the courtyard. A Circus of Value machine's prerecorded sales pitch plays from somewhere in the courtyard, and Elizabeth's stomach growls quietly at the thought of getting something to eat; but the desire to return to her apartment trumps her desire for a meal.

Beyond the bronze statue lies the elevator, facing the tall, spear-wielding goddess and the entrance to Athena's Glory, but it only goes up to the penthouse suite. "No, Cohen wouldn't have shelled out for the penthouse, not for a mere disciple… the rest of us have to climb upstairs." Talking to herself quietly, Elizabeth steps past the elevator and starts up the ramp that goes around the central column that houses the elevator shaft.

"Your place is all the way up here, huh?" Comstock follows close behind as she climbs, still speaking with Booker's voice and trying again to make conversation. "How'd you swing this?"

Somehow, Elizabeth just doesn't have the energy to come up with a scathing remark or angry retort. "Spent two months as Cohen's 'disciple', trying to get a line on his trafficking ring. The 'maestro' arranged for me to be close by while I was under his tutelage."

"Cohen, huh? So that's how you were acquainted with that lunatic… didn't much care for getting zapped by that contraption of his…"

Elizabeth glances sideways at Comstock as he talks, choosing not to respond both because she doesn't care to get caught up in conversation with the man, and because she doesn't fancy giving Comstock any more cause to use that stolen voice of his; it'd been hard, leading Comstock to Sally while having to listen to him use Booker's voice and manner of speech.

As she makes it to the second floor, Elizabeth stops on the landing and leans against the railing to massage her aching feet as Comstock comes up beside her. But she turns quickly and glares back at him, stopping the Prophet in his tracks; the thought of leaving Comstock here and now crosses Elizabeth's mind, "All I'd have to do is yell 'I never want to see you again!' and run the rest of the way…" But it's a fleeting, unreasonable notion, and she knows it; Comstock won't be deterred so easily, Elizabeth having experienced firsthand how persistent the man is. Even if she managed to shake him, then Elizabeth would be all alone against whatever came after her next.

"And there will be..." Her gaze falls, and Elizabeth shakes her head while still leaning against the railing. She has the wherewithal to not say any of what she's thinking, Elizabeth glancing at Comstock one last time before starting up the ramp again.

The apartments of Athena's Glory aren't as spacious and sprawling as those populated by the movers and shakers of Rapture, a fact that's plainly recognizable as they go; each side of the courtyard has two of the elegant doors with brass plates bearing the residents' names, Elizabeth stepping across the bridge from the central pillar and taking a left, passing a pair of doors belonging to neighbors she'd never bothered getting to know.

The apartment suite Sander Cohen had provided her with is on the far left side of the third floor, the out of the way location near the top of Athena's Glory necessitating a bit more walking than Elizabeth's tired, sore feet care for, and the heels she's wearing don't help matters one bit. And while the apartment was no more a 'home' to Elizabeth than she had truly been Cohen's 'Songbird', she still heaves a surprisingly heartfelt sigh of relief as her key miraculously turns the lock. "Thank goodness… huh, I wonder if Cohen's still footing the bill… or maybe they just haven't gotten around to changing the locks."

But her relief is muted some when she steps inside; most of what little possessions she'd kept in her apartment lie strewn about on the floor, and Elizabeth recognizes the telltale sign of a hasty, reckless search. There's no sign of forced entry, and Elizabeth can only guess that this would be the handiwork of Ryan Security.

"Someone ransacked this place proper…" Stepping in behind her, Comstock mutters quietly, drawing another scowl from Elizabeth. She'd almost forgotten for a moment that she wasn't alone, and she turns to face her 'companion' slowly. "So… what's our next move?"

"Our? Our?!" All the anger that's been festering over the past twenty-four hours suddenly flare up all at once, Elizabeth's exhaustion forgotten as she hisses furiously through grit teeth.

"What could have possessed you to even THINK that there's an 'our' or 'us'? After everything you've done, to me, to Anna… how can you… there is no us! You did save me from Ryan's doctors, and I'll admit, I might not have made it this far on my own, but what could have given you the sense that this is anything more than an arrangement of necessity?!" She's yelling outright in his face now, Comstock not flinching one bit as Elizabeth vents all of her pent up anger and fury, "Make no mistake, _Comstock_ ; you are a means to an end, no more. I'll part company with you at the earliest convenience!"

Staring into Comstock's pale blue eyes with all the rage and hate she can muster, Elizabeth still can't help but see Booker when she looks at the man; there are few visible distinctions between the man before her and the father who set Elizabeth free, at great cost to himself. Aside from the white hair and blue eyes, Comstock has Booker's appearance down almost exactly, the red bowtie in place of the ascot the only part of the outfit that isn't exactly what Elizabeth's father wore. And that infuriates Elizabeth even more, the hungry, tired young woman balling her hands into fists at her sides as a new wave of anger courses through her veins.

"Why… why did you even want to become Booker?! Why not someone else, like you did before?!" Elizabeth's' eyes dart down to the back of Comstock's right hand, the stylized AD tattoo still there even after being resurrected by the Vita-Chamber. That shallow act of penance perfectly sums up how genuine Comstock's guilt is; Booker had branded the initials into the back of his hand, a permanent reminder burned into his flesh that would stay with him always, but Comstock's marking is all too temporary. The tattoo could be erased, simply and totally, and the ink will eventually wear and become distorted.

"Stop… stop using his voice!" Despite her anger, tears well up in Elizabeth's eyes as she rages, spilling down her cheeks and leaving twin trails of warmth, "Stop using his words! Stop using his mannerisms! Stop… stop using his _face_!"

Before she knows it, Elizabeth's pounding on Comstock's chest as she sobs, the dark-haired young woman torn between wanting to lash out at him and break down in tears; so far, she's doing both and making a poor showing of either. Comstock doesn't move, doesn't try to stop her or even offer an excuse, the Prophet just silently standing there as Elizabeth hammers ineffectually on his chest.

"You… you aren't Booker! You'll NEVER be… never be Booker!"

As the last, weak blow lands on Comstock, Elizabeth stumbles back, struggling to get the words out between her sobs and gasps for air. She's angry, she's distraught, she's confused and hurting, and all Elizabeth can do about it is rail against the former Prophet. "It doesn't matter… how much you wish to forget, doesn't matter how guilty you feel! You're _Comstock_ , and I'll never, ever forgive you for what you did to me, to Anna and to Booker!"

The rational part of her mind tries to tell her that this Comstock wasn't the one who locked her up in Monument Tower or condemned her to six months of torturous conditioning in Comstock House, but it's a small, quiet voice in the face of her pain and sorrow. He _would_ have imprisoned her, he _would_ have tortured her, if given the chance. And most of all, he's still responsible for the death of Anna, that haunting moment permanently etched into her memory.

But Comstock still doesn't say anything in his defense, the Prophet just weathering her wrath and staring back at Elizabeth with those hateful, pale blue eyes. His expression is plainly one of guilt, but Elizabeth doesn't care; the man's a liar, a killer and a monster, and even if this isn't a ruse, he deserves the pain and guilt he's suffering a thousand, no, a million times over.

"Why are you even following me?!" Spitting the words a she tries to catch her breath, Elizabeth bites back another sob and shoots another glare at the false 'Booker' before her, "Why aren't you off looking for your Sally again, huh? Did you abandon her because you remembered what a bastard you are, or are you too focused on your precious 'Lamb' now?!"

Elizabeth doesn't wait for an answer, instead crossing her arms angrily and turning her back on Comstock. But even as she steps away from her 'companion', Elizabeth's hit by a wave of weakness; she's totally spent, physically and emotionally. All she wants to do is to climb into bed and forget it all.

"I'm… I'm going to rest. Do whatever you want, I just don't want to see your face." Stepping towards her bedroom, Elizabeth touches her right hand to the solid, brown door and heaves a quiet sigh.

"Elizabeth," pausing as Comstock finally speaks up, Elizabeth shoots another glare at him as he hesitantly continues, "I'm so sorry…" Elizabeth cuts him off with an angry shake of her head, stepping into the bedroom and slamming the door shut.

The moment the door slams shut, Elizabeth practically collapses against the swirling blue and green patterned wall, the anger that had bolstered her fatigued body and spirit disappearing like a dream and leaving the former Lamb of Columbia feeling empty and drained. It takes her a good minute or two to muster the strength to push herself off the bedroom wall, Elizabeth trudging over to the small closet near the bed. Even though she has no illusions about being able to stay here for long, Elizabeth doesn't much care for fouling the blanket and sheets of her bed.

"Can't imagine I'll have time to throw this in the washer…" Elizabeth sighs as she strips off her grimy white blouse, letting it fall to the floor as she works on the skirt. With her dirty ensemble piled up in the corner of the bedroom, Elizabeth pulls on a plain white nightgown and heaves a long, weary sigh as the simple garment settles into place on her slender frame; the bedroom looks just as she remembers, weak, blue light filtering in from a sole window, giving her a view of Rapture. It doesn't take long for Elizabeth to end up beneath the covers once she's changed, the exhausted brunette already falling asleep the moment he rests her head on the pillow.

As her consciousness begins to fade into the pleasant haze of unconsciousness, Elizabeth's thoughts turn to the other her and Booker, her mind trying to imagine the life they're enjoying together. And that causes a pang of heartache, Elizabeth's brow furrowing for a moment as her descent into sleep is briefly disturbed; there's little she wouldn't give to be with her Booker instead of the imposter in the next room. But sleep won't be denied, pulling her into its embrace as one last thought crosses Elizabeth's mind, "I wonder… I wonder if the real me is happy…"

* * *

Opening her eyes slowly, Elizabeth blinks, finding herself flat on her back and staring up at the green and blue ceiling. She hasn't a clue as to when she first regained consciousness, the first thing her mind seems able to comprehend being the ceiling she stares at this very moment, and Elizabeth groans groggily as she tries to sit up. But with her mind only just beginning to shake off the cobwebs left in sleep's wake, it takes Elizabeth a couple seconds to realize where she is.

"That's right… I'm in my bed, in my apartment…" A yawn interrupts her groggy voice, Elizabeth looking around sleepily once it's past. "Huh… judging by how thirsty I am… I've been asleep a good long while. Maybe a full night's sleep… wait, what?"

Blinking in what little surprise her sleep-addled mind can conjure up, Elizabeth stares at the desk that rests against the wall, directly in front of the foot of her bed; on the sleek, reddish-brown surface lies her long-sleeved, button-down white blouse and black skirt, folded neatly and miraculously clean.

"How did… who washed these?" Looking around the bedroom as her bare feet touch down on the soft, sea green carpet, Elizabeth half expects to see an eternally unperturbed pair of redheaded twins or even a Tear as she wonders. "I did have that dream here… ah, don't be silly, Elizabeth; why would Booker come here just to clean my outfit?" The Lutece twins might do such a thing, but somehow, Elizabeth can't imagine them doing so without appearing right about now.

Elizabeth grins slightly as she casts a suspicious eye around the room, certain that the twins won't appear now that she's thought that, and she shakes her head a moment later. "Maybe I should get cleaned up properly… a shower would be nice…" But another thought occurs to Elizabeth as she approaches her laundered outfit; Comstock's out there, and she doesn't much like the idea of appearing in front of him wearing nothing but a nightgown and a frown.

"Ah… hell with it…" Gathering up her ensemble and a few additional, necessary garments, Elizabeth peers out into the living room for a moment before stealing across the short distance between the bedroom and bathroom. As far as she can tell, Comstock's nowhere in the room, though she does notice something out of place; what looks to be his blue vest is draped over the back of her couch. But she doesn't linger on it; Elizabeth instead eases shut the bathroom door and deposits her bundle of clothing on the sink's countertop.

The black-haired, pale skinned young woman stares into the mirror for a moment; her reflection doesn't look half as bad as Elizabeth had expected, at least where her hair and face are concerned. Her face only bears a smudge here and there, and her long, dark curls only look to have a couple patches of dried something or other in them.

"Well… suppose I might have to change the pillow case later…" Grinning at her own reflection before stepping away from the sink, Elizabeth reaches into the shower and takes hold of the hot water knob, turning the brass fixture nearly all the way. And to a strange measure of delight at such a simple thing, hot water comes pouring out of the showerhead at a steady pace, the cozy bathroom quickly filling up with a thin, misty haze as the warmth mixes with the otherwise cool air.

Elizabeth takes her time, enjoying the heat washing over her as the hot water scours away the filth and grime she's collected over a day of running and hiding. The smell of lavender suffuses the warm misty air, the scent of her shampoo and the heat caressing her soothes Elizabeth's frayed nerves, and the oppressive numbness that had clung to her for what feels like an eternity begins to fade after a long rest and the shower's warmth. "Ahh… that's better…" Grinning as she starts rinsing her hair, Elizabeth lets her mind wander now that she has a moment's respite, "If only I had time for a bath..."

By the time Elizabeth steps out of the shower, nearly an hour has come and gone, the young woman still sleepily toweling off her damp locks as she gets dressed. And for the first time in a long while, Elizabeth feels whole again, breathing a long, contented sigh as she drops the towel on the countertop. Between the restful sleep and the cleansing shower, the scent of lavender still lingering in the air, it doesn't surprise the young brunette that she feels alive again, the fatigue and emotional numbness melting away.

True, she's still trapped in an insane city beneath the sea and being hunted by the ruler of this underwater cage, but Elizabeth can worry about how to escape once she's enjoyed herself to her hearts content. "Not much point in dwelling on it," talking to herself as she combs her fingers through her still slightly damp hair, Elizabeth grins again, "I've enough time to worry about it, after all…"

Still, her spirits are dampened a touch as she puts on the final touches; Elizabeth's pulled on new shoes, undergarments, stockings and her freshly cleaned blouse and skirt, only to stop and stare at the red ribbon dejectedly. "The Vita-Chambered restored my finger... why couldn't it have brought back my brooch?"

The silver brooch bearing a bird cameo had been the one thing that was truly her own in Rapture, and when Elizabeth had realized it was missing as she and Comstock were escaping Hephaestus, she'd very nearly turned back in a panic. All she can think of is that it must have been taken, and Elizabeth has a sneaking suspicion that she knows who it was; those damnable twins.

Sighing quietly, Elizabeth slips the ribbon around her neck and under her blouse's collar, tying it up quickly before resting her hands on either side of the sink again; Comstock, Ryan and the monsters that call Rapture home await her outside, and Elizabeth can only try to prepare herself for the trials to come. "No time to be wasting on sentiment…" Drawing her lips back into a tight line, Elizabeth takes hold of the doorknob and pulls the door open, stepping out quietly.

As determined and prepared as Elizabeth thinks she is, what awaits her outside proves her preparations wanting; the familiar sound of a Tear greets her the moment the door opens, and Elizabeth's eyes go wide as she sees one opening in the middle of her living room. What comes through the Tear confuses Elizabeth even more, a woman flying through it and landing hard on the carpet.

"Least the floor's comfy…" A redheaded girl dressed in a mix of Columbian blue and Vox red mumbles into the sea green carpet, and Elizabeth can barely comprehend what she's seeing; another form rests on the redhead's back, Elizabeth recognizing the hair, the white blouse and blue skirt of the second girl immediately. And as the first looks up, her red hair tied up in a braid hanging over her shoulder and resting on the carpet, green eyes go just as wide as Elizabeth's in surprise. A nasty scar runs down the right side of her face, the girl looking to have had a rough time of it.

"Who are you…? No… HOW are you here?" Elizabeth stammers as she stares back at the newcomer. And the lady Vox can only stammer herself, her thick Irish accent tickling Elizabeth's ears.

"E-Elizabeth?"

* * *

 **Author's Note: And now we've caught up with where Change of Heart's last chapter left off, Elizabeth coming face to face with her younger self and Abigail. She's already got a lot on her plate, and this just gives her even more questions that need answers. So, there's a few things I'd like to talk about, first being that this Elizabeth is still pretty much the Burial at Sea episode 1 incarnation, hence all the anger she has for Comstock. Of course, now she knows there was another her that appeared after her death, and I can't imagine that she wouldn't have some existential problems with a 'real' Elizabeth out there.**

 **As for Comstock, we only really got to see a little of how he felt towards Elizabeth once had his memories back in episode 1, but the more I thought on it, the less I could see him being anything less than guilt-ridden when with Elizabeth. Of course, whether or not the guilt will have an affect on him is anyone's guess. With the two of them stuck in Rapture before the Fall and at the height of the Civil War, there's plenty of opportunities for him to show his true colors.**

 **As usual, I'll be making additional checks at a later date, and as I mentioned above, I may make changes to the opening summary and will be looking for a better cover art later. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy the story.**


	2. Visitor From The Sky

**For new readers, this story is based off of and is tied into several other pieces of mine. If you're not sure where to start, I'd suggest finding Bioshock Infinite: Unbroken, as well as its prequel Unbroken: Song of Sorrow and the continuation Unbroken: I'm Home. Thanks for checking it out.**

* * *

"Who… what?"

Elizabeth stares back at the redheaded Vox lying on her floor in disbelief, so many questions running through her mind that she can't ask one without it getting jumbled up with another. Who is this woman? How does she know my name? Why did she come here? And is that really who I think that is on her back?

"Huh? Wha-who's there?!"

The voice barely precedes its owner bolting upright, startling Elizabeth, though perhaps not as much as it should; the past ten seconds have had far more than their fair share of startling and surprising moments. And the identity of the voice's owner doesn't help Elizabeth calm down, not one bit; beyond the redhead looking up at her and the face down, eerily familiar brunette, Comstock scrambles to his feet, the Prophet looking to have been lying down on Elizabeth's couch and napping. But now he's awake, snatching up his shotgun and quickly taking aim at the pair of prone women, "How the hell did you two get in here, huh?!"

But the Vox woman doesn't take things lying down, so to speak; the moment she first hears Comstock's confused voice, the redhead rolls to her side and quickly draws her weapon, the move plainly meant to give her easier access to the holster resting against her right hip. Elizabeth recognizes the weapon, too; a Paddywhacker Hand Cannon, same as the one Booker used back in Columbia. And the moment iron clears leather, the redhead snaps the weapon up, the Prophet and the Vox woman bringing their weapons to bear on one another nearly at the same time.

"Oh my God…" Despite the tense standoff unfolding before her, Elizabeth's focus isn't on Comstock or even the mysterious redhead, the former Lamb of Columbia whispering quietly; the brunette who'd been resting on the redhead has slipped off, rolling onto her back when the Vox woman went for her gun. And while Elizabeth had suspected the identity of the brunette, there's a world of difference between suspecting something, and knowing it for a fact. "She's… she's me…"

"C-Comstock?!"

The increasingly mysterious redhead practically snarls the Prophet's name, startling Elizabeth yet again, her surprise enough to draw her attention away from the other Elizabeth lying on soft green carpet. While the Vox is laying on her side herself and facing away from where Elizabeth stands, the young brunette can still make out shock and anger on what little of the redhead's face that she can see; memories of the bloody Vox uprising come back to Elizabeth in a flash, and she shudders quietly.

And just like that, Elizabeth can see where this is going, "She's going to pull the trigger… even though she's at such a disadvantage?" Her eyes dart between Comstock and the Vox woman, Elizabeth holding up her hands in an attempt to calm them both down, "Umm… hold on, you…"

"Drop the gun, now! Or do you fancy picking buckshot out of teeth in hell, Vox Populi scum?!"

Before Elizabeth can get their attention, Comstock's roaring at the redhead with his stolen voice, the Vox woman grimacing while the Lamb does the same; it's more than a little disconcerting, hearing Booker's voice used so hatefully. "Stop it-"

"Try it, ya' child killin' bastard!" The redhead curses back at Comstock, the words and the venom in them seeming to throw the Prophet off guard, "I'll be puttin' a bullet in ya', too! Feel like goin' ta' hell together, _Prophet_?!"

"That's it, enough!" Gritting her teeth, Elizabeth mentally summons up all of the anger she'd ever felt for Comstock throughout her life, letting the fury seep into her voice; it's not hard, as all she need do is look at Comstock's face to remember all the reasons she has to hate the man. And once she shouts, Elizabeth steps around the prone redhead and stands between her and Comstock, "Both of you, stop it right now! Put those guns downs!" She turns on Comstock as she finishes, Elizabeth staring a hole through the false 'Booker'.

The Prophet hesitates, and only begrudgingly lowers his shotgun when Elizabeth shoots him another cold scowl. "One down, one to go." Muttering under her breath, Elizabeth glances at the Vox woman.

Surprise is written across the redhead's face, her green eyes wide and questioning. "Why are ya'… why would ya' want ta' defend that bastard? Why… why have ya' come back here?" A hint of a smile flashes across Elizabeth's lips, even though she doesn't understand the redhead's question; seems there's surprise enough to go around.

"I don't… I never left…" Taking a slow, careful breath, Elizabeth turns and kneels before the Vox woman, the barrel of the revolver brushing her cheek, "Here's the thing… I need him, it's as simple as that. You… you have me at a disadvantage, but I'm guessing that means you know what I can… could do, right?"

The redhead nods slowly, a peculiar look in her emerald green eyes. "Okay… well, I can't do that, not anymore… and we're being hunted by this city's 'Comstock'… "

"Andrew Ryan's chasin' after ya'?"

"How do you know about Ryan?" Comstock's suspicious voice comes from behind Elizabeth, and she shoots him another glare even as she wonders the very same thing herself.

"So… umm… I need Comstock around. Without him… my chances of getting out of this sunken city isn't looking too good…"

The prone woman nods slowly, and she holsters her revolver after giving Comstock another baleful look. But as she picks herself up, the redhead whispers quietly to Elizabeth, "Ya' aren't as helpless as ya' might think…"

"Huh?" Casting a sideways glance at the redhead, Elizabeth closes her eyes and heaves a long, exasperated sigh; how'd she go from a good night's rest and a nice, hot shower to this? "So… you seem remarkably well informed for someone from Columbia and the Vox… I don't suppose you have a crystal ball in your pocket, do you?"

A weary, fleeting smile touches the redhead's lips, and Elizabeth's suddenly struck by how young this Vox looks; the scar running down the right side of her face made the girl appear older, but Elizabeth has a sneaking suspicion that the redhead's likely younger than she is. And to top it off, she looks like she's been put through the ringer.

"No… no crystal ball, but I'd rather not say in front of… _him_."

The redhead's reply draws a touch of a grin across Elizabeth's lips, though she's not quite sure why. "Why don't you go do something useful?" Only barely turning from the girl and the other Elizabeth, the dark-haired young woman waits until she's sure Comstock got the hint and walks away, the front door opening and closing before she looks back to the redhead.

"Thank ya'…" the redheaded girl grins back at Elizabeth, "I'm not goin' ta' ask how ya' managed that… umm… is there someplace we can lay Elizabeth… you… down?" The grin turns awkwardly, and Elizabeth can't help the chuckle that escapes her.

"Sure thing. C'mon, my bedroom's this way."

Together, the young women slip the still unconscious Elizabeth's arms over their shoulders and gently carry her towards the bedroom. And while she has more than a few questions for the redhead, Elizabeth finds herself oddly pleased by having someone friendly around who somehow knows the truth about her.

"Umm… my name's Abigail."

"Abigail? That's a nice name. Pleased to meet you." Smiling back over her other self, Elizabeth slows as they approach the door, "We'll have to go in sideways, Abigail. Ah… I've been meaning to ask; you seem rather young to be in the Vox Populi…"

That draws a small laugh from Abigail, the redhead grinning back at Elizabeth, "Ya' don't know the half of it… I'll turn nineteen in December. That's… umm… four months from when I left…" The sound of Abigail's voice trails off, and Elizabeth finds a troubled look on the girl's features. It's not hard to guess what she's thinking about.

"You'll get back. Whoever opened the Tear you came though must have a reason, right?"

"I suppose…" Nodding as they approach the bed, Abigail falls silent again once they start maneuvering the other Elizabeth onto the sheets and mattress. "I'd guess the twins have something to do with this…"

"Heh…" Laughing softly as she lifts the other Elizabeth's legs onto the bed, the black-haired Elizabeth takes a seat beside her other self, "So you're acquainted with the Luteces, too? Speaking of which… I'd like to hear your story, if you're willing to tell it…"

"It's…" A sigh escapes Abigail, the young redhead standing up straight while idly touching her long braid of fiery red hair, "It's a long story…"

* * *

"… an' after I had my chat with the older you, and asked her what became of this lass, I said my goodbyes an' came home. Your Rosalind Lutece was waitin' for me, asked if I was satisfied…"

Elizabeth stares back at Abigail in disbelief, the redheaded girl's story leaving her almost speechless; she sits beside Abigail on the foot of her bed, the redhead looking a little sheepish as she finishes telling of her encounter with a much, much older version of the Lamb of Columbia. Abigail had said she'd start at the beginning as she remembers it, and her story began with the young Vox taking a shot at Booker.

"Hold on… let's back up for a minute…" Rubbing her eyes while holding up a hand to forestall the redhead, Elizabeth still has a hard time wrapping her mind around all this, "So… about Booker… he really was trying to reach Elizabeth… the other Elizabeth… even though he only had a vague inkling of who she was?"

"Yeah… Booker didn't remember much… just that she was special ta' him." A smile teases at Abigail's lips, and one of her own finds its way to Elizabeth; he _remembered_! If only in some small, uncertain measure, Booker remembered her and the ordeals they suffered through. "An' Booker told me a little about Anna, too…"

"Anna…" A touch of longing clouds Elizabeth's expression, she running her fingers through her long, dyed-black curls and looking away, "How… do you know if they were happy? Is Booker still drinking and gambling?"

Abigail laughs softly, her lilting accent making her voice almost musical, "I wouldn't 'ave known it then, but he's given up the drinkin' and' gamblin'. An' they're happy… all three of them." Elizabeth glances back at Abigail, her meaning plain as day. "Luteces let me see them once in a while… even conveyed a birthday an' Christmas present ta' her…"

"Christmas, huh?" Smiling at that, Elizabeth climbs to her feet, her mind trying to process everything she'd learned. The other her, the 'real' Elizabeth returned to Rapture to save Sally, even though she knew she would lose her powers in doing so. She came back even though she knew she was going to her death. And Booker was able to follow after Elizabeth because of a special connection between them. "A bond that he doesn't have with me…"

Elizabeth's heart sinks; she's already got the sense that the other Elizabeth is the 'real' Elizabeth, and this just reinforces that notion. Abigail seems to notice, too, the young redhead frowning as Elizabeth leans against her desk, "Are ya' alright, Elizabeth?"

"I'm… no, no I'm not…" A forlorn moan escapes her, Elizabeth glancing back at Abigail again, "I'm just a… copy of the original, how would you feel if you learned something like that?" On top of that, Elizabeth's starting to rethink her feelings toward Abigail; the fact that this girl has all these borrowed memories leaves her feeling a touch disturbed, as if someone had read through all of the most personal, private parts of her life.

"Umm… is there anythin' I can do ta' help?" Abigail makes to stand, but Elizabeth holds up a hand quickly and shakes her head; it's not her fault that Elizabeth's feeling vulnerable and lost, but there's nothing Abigail can do to help, not when she's part of the cause.

"Suppose I best get used to the idea of Abigail knowing so much about me… even if I've only know her for about an hour…" Frowning, Elizabeth closes her eyes and focuses on pushing these feelings aside as the thought plays through her mind. And despite all the practice she's had during her time in Rapture, Elizabeth still needs a few minutes to regain her composure; when next she opens her eyes, Elizabeth manages a small smile as she looks back at Abigail. "Okay… but, Abigail… none of that explains her." Elizabeth nods at her other self, still asleep on her bed.

"Oh…" Abigail's gaze falls, the young redhead leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees as she stares at her booted feet. And as she watches the girl, Elizabeth's surprised by the details she's missed until now; Abigail seems to wince ever so slightly whenever she moves her upper body, and there are small, red, circular welts on her neck. The redhead's been in a fight recently, Elizabeth figured as much already, but she certainly didn't come out of it unscathed; she might be really hurt.

"Elizabeth, ya' might want ta' sit down again…" Abigail's voice is low and hushed when she looks up, and Elizabeth spies a pained look in those green eyes of hers. "I did some diggin' after visitin' the elder Elizabeth, an' I learned she was bein' held in a closed off wing in Comstock House…"

Listening quietly as Abigail describes her first foray in Comstock House, Elizabet soon finds the redhead's recommendation wise; while the bird creature she'd seen doesn't surprise Elizabeth much, after seeing Splicers and learning of the connection between Vigors and Plasmids from Abigail, what became of her other self shocks and horrifies the former Lamb of Columbia. Memories of her own experience in Comstock House come to mind unbidden, and knowing now that those twisted doctors refined their techniques on this Elizabeth…

Pushing herself unsteadily off of her desk, Elizabeth staggers over to her bed and drops down beside Abigail, the Vox hanging her head dejectedly, "Why'd you do it, Abigail? Why go to all this trouble for a girl you barely know?"

A hint of a smile tugs at Abigail's lips, the redhead heaving a sigh before looking back up to Elizabeth, "There's somethin' the other Elizabeth said ta' the Booker in her head, when he said somethin' like that; 'How well did you know me when you came to Columbia?'"

Elizabeth feels a grin teasing at her lips despite the grief, but Abigail's disappears in a flash. "Elizabeth… I don't know how ta' say this, but… why I went ta' these lengths for her… I just couldn't let her stay in that cage. Part of me wants ta' say it's 'cause I feel I owe Booker… but part of me just felt she deserved better…" Another sigh escapes Abigail, this one long and exasperated, "I'm not makin' much sense, am I?"

"Not especially," shaking her head, Elizabeth climbs to her feet and steps over to the side of the bed, kneeling at her other self's side, "but that's alright; I think I have the general idea." Leaning close to the sleeping Elizabeth, she whispers quietly, mostly to herself, "She's got some feeling for us DeWitts, doesn't she? I wonder if she was right, about it coming from Booker, at first…"

"Huh?"

"Never mind, Abigail." Shrugging, Elizabeth glances at Abigail for a moment before turning her attention back to her unconscious counterpart. But her mood darkens again; she'd never thought that there could be another Elizabeth in the worlds she took Booker to, and the bits and pieces of this girl's life that she'd gleaned from hers and Abigail's story start to come together in Elizabeth's mind.

"She was taken from her tower before Booker arrived…" Recalling a voxophone Booker had found, Elizabeth grimaces as the rest of the story comes together; tortured for who knows how long, this Elizabeth never had the chance to toughen up and never knew anyone to have faith in. "And she decided to end it all herself, because of it…" Elizabeth tentatively caresses the sleeping girl's cheek with the back of her hand; imaging herself in this girl's place is frighteningly easy, and tears well up in Elizabeth's eyes as she goes.

"Umm…" Abigail speaks up hesitantly, her voice quiet and sounding a touch exhausted, "I'm still curious about… how…"

"A Vita-Chamber brought me back from… from when I died in the Toy's Department…" Elizabeth shudders midway through her answer, the memory of her death still vivid and unnerving. "I don't have a clue as to how, though. But…" A small, half-hearted grin touches Elizabeth's lips as she looks to Abigail, "I think you could use a rest yourself, Abigail. Come on."

"I'm… I'm alright." But Abigail winces as she stands, touching her chest and back of head gingerly.

"The bed's plenty large enough to fit two comfortably, and you're hurt." Stating her case as she steps up to Abigail, Elizabeth leads the injured redhead to the other side of the bed, "Just lie down, I'll take a look at you when you wake up." It only takes a minute to get Abigail in bed, Elizabeth heading out the door once she has the young Vox lying next to the other Elizabeth. And she can't help but grin as she stops at the door; Abigail's already falling fast asleep.

* * *

8:15 PM

The monotonous droning of the Rapture Daily News anchor fills the quiet living room, Elizabeth idly watching for lack of a better option. A half-eaten _Cheeky_ Brand Pep Bar hangs from her listless fingers; while she's famished enough to devour an entire box of the sweet candy bars, Elizabeth's trying to conserve the one piece of food she'd been able to find in the ransacked apartment.

"Riots, sports, Atlas, another Cohen performance…" Elizabeth frowns as the news anchor begins another story about the 'disturbances' caused by Atlas; the media's in Andrew Ryan's pocket, and they're touting hard his party line that life in Rapture's unaffected by the civil war. "It's just more and more propaganda… at least I know the time now…"

Standing and trudging over to the television, Elizabeth turns the dial to the 'off' position, "Nothing else on, anyway…" Grumbling quietly, Elizabeth turns from the dark screen to continue trudging along. But a quiet growl rumbles from Elizabeth's empty stomach, and she grimaces before taking another small bite of her Pep Bar. "About a third left…" Noting glumly as she stares at the candy bar, Elizabeth sighs around chunks of chocolate and whatever else is inside the treat.

It's been around four hours since Abigail and the other Elizabeth lay down on her bed, and Elizabeth's been left to her own devices all this time. She's seen neither hide nor hair of Comstock, and while Elizabeth would normally count that a blessing, she's begun to wonder if the man had run off finally. Having to brave Rapture with just her wits and maybe whatever Abigail can muster doesn't fill Elizabeth with a whole lot of confidence.

"We've been here most of the day, too…" Collapsing into the genuine wood chair, Elizabeth crosses her arms on the table and buries her face in them, muttering to herself the whole time, "Why haven't Ryan's men come barging in here yet?"

No sooner had the words left her mouth than Elizabeth hears the sound of the front door opening abruptly. When she jerks upright and looks, Elizabeth isn't sure if she should be relieved, or disappointed; Comstock stands in the doorway, the former Prophet carrying an old plastic bag loaded down with something or other.

"They still here?" Approaching Elizabeth carefully, Comstock reaches into the bag as he takes a seat on the opposite side of the table.

"Of course they are." Answering curtly, Elizabeth turns to sit sideways in her chair, not wanting to look at Comstock. Part of her wants nothing more than to get up and walk away, to ignore whatever it is that Comstock might have brought back. But Elizabeth finds she's peering at the bag from the corner of her eye, curiosity starting to get the better of her and overwhelming the spiteful notion.

"Found some supplies, figured we could use them." The Prophet's still using Booker's voice when he speaks, he pulling something out of the bag and setting it in the middle of the table.

An angry retort begins to form on the tip of Elizabeth's tongue, but it dies there the moment she sees what's on the table; a can of baked beans, Comstock digging another can out of the bag quickly. At any other time, Elizabeth wouldn't have looked twice at the canned food being offered by Comstock, but hunger has a way of changing one's priorities.

All in all, Comstock's procured eight cans of food, primarily baked beans, canned fruit and soups, a half dozen Pep Bars, three _Thanks, Mom!_ -brand crème-filled cakes and five bottles of water. And while Elizabeth's stomach growls in anticipation, the dark-haired young woman stops just short of reaching for the sliced apricots she's been eyeing. "Wait… where did you manage to scrounge all this up?"

Elizabeth casts a suspicious look at Comstock as he shrugs. "Let's just say a few of your neighbors won't be happy when they come home. The place is fairly deserted for this hour…"

"I had a feeling it was something like that…" Scowling, Elizabeth snatches up the can of apricots and climbs to her feet, making for the small kitchen and the one thing that she needs more than almost anything right now; a can opener. Fortunately, the tool is just where she left it, Elizabeth grabbing a fork as well before unsealing the sweet, syrup-coated slices of fruit. And Elizabeth makes for the door a moment later.

"Where are you going?" Comstock calls after her.

"To get some fresh air." While he did bring food, apricots don't do much to make up for what Comstock did, and Elizabeth shoots him another glare, "Don't bother them, got that?"

"About those two… we'll go through our supplies…"

"No." Elizabeth cuts him off with a single word, and she pulls open her apartment suite's door and steps out onto the third floor walkway. She doesn't care what he meant to say.

Resting her arms on the railing, Elizabeth peers down into the now dimly lit courtyard of Athena's Glory as she begins to scarf down the sweet fruit, the armored, spear-wielding statue of the goddess catching the meager light and still managing to shine. Truth be told, the air out here is only marginally fresher than in her apartment, but Elizabeth's been cooped up in there all day.

"I shouldn't be too long." Licking her lips to catch the last of the canned apricot's syrup, Elizabeth sighs wearily despite being well rested, "Who knows what Comstock will get in his head if he's left alone too long…"

Idly playing with the black cuff of her long-sleeved white blouse, Elizabeth wonders again at how her outfit had been mysteriously cleaned. "Huh… come to think of it, Comstock's clothes look like they'd been washed, too… did he…?" A frown crosses Elizabeth's features; while she is glad to have had her ensemble laundered, that means Comstock snuck into her bedroom while she was asleep!

"That son of a…" Growling through grit teeth, Elizabeth pushes off the railing, "I've got a few choice words for that bastard…" She barely notices the pair of shapes moving around in the courtyard below as she turns away; one is small and delicate, the other huge and lumbering, the latter's multitude of yellow, glowing eyes illuminating the area and a large mining drill replaces its right hand.

"You're a hard person to find, Ms. DeWitt."

Elizabeth's fingers are just encircling the doorknob when the booming voice sounds, and she nearly jumps out of her skin in surprise as she recognizes the speaker; Andrew Ryan. "Managing to disappear in my city is no easy feat. But do you truly believe you can elude me forever?"

Beams of light come from the ceiling of Athena's Glory, four in total sweeping across the courtyard and walkways, "As you temporarily are no longer under my power, I shall make you the same offer I did to the other one; become a valued employee of Ryan Industries, and I shall guarantee you yours and your companion's safety. Like she who came before you, I'll give you sixty seconds to decide. Unlike her, I won't be sending my sharks after you. Oh no, if you refuse my generous offer, I have something far, far less pleasant than a pack of sharks."

"Oh no…" Elizabeth doesn't remember the 'sharks' first hand, but from Abigail's story, they're a bunch of spliced up, armed and extremely dangerous 'problem solvers' for Ryan. And Elizabeth has little desire to see what would be so much worse than them.

"Fifty seconds." Ryan's voice counting down follows her into the apartment, and Comstock looks up from his place at the table when she comes running into the apartment.

"We have to go; Ryan's found us!" Hurrying to the bedroom, Elizabeth doesn't bother listening to Comstock's confused demands for an explanation. Instead, she comes up to Abigail's side of the bed and shakes her awake, "Abigail, wake up. We've got to go!"

"Wha-? Elizabeth?" Abigail's voice is slow and groggy, and she hesitantly gets up, "Huh?" She's waking up a hell of a lot slower than Elizabeth hoped; while she wouldn't say she's frantic, Elizabeth is definitely tense, and she has to admit that she's scared. Not a new feeling for her, not in the slightest.

"Thirty seconds."

The countdown continues, the booming voice reaching clear into the bedroom. But as obnoxious as it is, it serves to shake Abigail to a semblance of lucidity. "C'mon, Abigail!" Holding the woozy redhead by the shoulders for a moment, Elizabeth pushes herself back up to her feet, "We can't stay here… something bad is coming."

"Hell's bells…" Elizabeth steps aside as Abigail climbs out of bed and curses, throwing her braid of fiery red hair back over her shoulder, "I'll take care of her, ya' should grab whatever ya' need!"

"Twenty seconds. The other Ms. DeWitt survived through a twist of fate, but I suspect no one will come to your aid this time. There's no reason to throw your life away; I told your predecessor that she was one of a kind in this world, or others. I suppose now I should say two of a kind, but that does nothing to lessen how exceptional you are."

"The man loves to hear himself talk…" Stepping out into the living room, Elizabeth spies Comstock shoving his stolen food and drinks into the plastic bag again, "Something the two of you have in common."

"Har har." There's not a bit of amusement in Comstock's voice, he just scowling slightly.

"Time." Abigail's just coming out of the bedroom with the other Elizabeth on her back when Ryan calls out the end of the countdown, displeasure thick in the tycoon's voice and making the former Lamb of Columbia's skin crawl, "You're as much of a misguided fool as your predecessor was a rube. Very well, if you won't listen to reason, then force is my only alternative."

The front door and the wall surrounding it suddenly bursts inward as Andrew Ryan's voice fades, Elizabeth, Comstock and Abigail jumping in surprise and turning to face whatever caused it. But dust obscures the hole left by the collapse, and all Elizabeth can see is a yellow, oval-shaped visor through the cloud. And the light shifts to red as an inhuman groan rumbles from the hole.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Well, this chapter went slightly different than how I originally intended, but that's part of the fun, isn't it? So Elizabeth's been filled in on a good deal of what the original Elizabeth went through, at least from Abigail's perspective and from the memories the redhead got from Booker. And now that Andrew Ryan's got her scent again, Elizabeth won't have time for little things like showers and sleep. But what exactly was it that crashed through her front door? It's not too hard to guess, but we'll get into the details next time.**

 **So now there's BaS ep.1 Elizabeth, pre-Daisy Infinite Elizabeth, Comstock and Abigail stuck in Rapture. How are they going to escape Athena's Glory, and Olympus Heights in general?**

 **Since this is a new story that's taking place back in Rapture, I'm sort of feeling my way through it a little more than usual, so any feedback would be greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter.**


	3. Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Slayer

**For new readers, this story is based off of and is tied into several other pieces of mine. If you're not sure where to start, I'd suggest finding Bioshock Infinite: Unbroken, as well as its prequel Unbroken: Song of Sorrow and the continuation Unbroken: I'm Home. The beginning of this story also has roots in chapter five of Those Left Behind. Thanks for checking it out.**

 **Foreword: Sorry for the delay, it's just been one of those weeks so far.**

* * *

Elizabeth can only stare in horror at the baleful crimson glow, the thing that had just burst through the wall of her apartment all but hidden from sight by the billowing dust cloud. And somehow, Elizabeth can tell that the creature is staring right back at her.

Another deep groan comes from the creature, reminiscent of a Big Daddy's but far more guttural, bestial. But just as the glowing visor begins to approach, a deep, thunderous roar of shotgun shakes Elizabeth from her shock, the deadly blast hurtling towards the thing in the dust. The sound of metal striking metal follows, nearly a dozen of them all in one instant, and Elizabeth scrambles towards Abigail and her other self as an enraged roar answers Comstock's shot.

"Son of a-Elizabeth! Run!"

That's all Comstock has time for, Elizabeth looking back just as Ryan's monster charges out of the dust cloud and directly at him. "It's… it's fast!" The monster doesn't come into sight right away, remnants of the dust cloud clinging to and enveloping it as it runs, and Elizabeth only gets a good look at the thing as it comes into arm's reach of Comstock. "What… what is that thing?!"

Ryan's monster looks to have a person's shape, but it's enormous compared to Comstock, the man not small by any means. Elizabeth wouldn't be surprised if it was a few feet taller than Comstock if it stood up straight. The creature's clad in a menacing, armored diving suit, passingly similar to the Big Daddy she'd seen downstairs and the one Comstock fought in the Toys Department. Elizabeth has never seen a Big Daddy like this one, but the glowing, crimson visor and massive mining drill on the thing's right arm gives it away. In its left hand, the thing holds an oversized spear gun, a coil attached to the spear and what looks like a reel.

And then the monster slams shoulder first into Comstock just as he fires again, the buckshot scattering off the Big Daddy's domed helmet harmlessly. The impact sends Comstock flying backwards into the wall and very nearly into the fridge, pain plainly visible in his shocked expression. "No shield… that had to hurt…" A frown crosses Elizabeth's face; the Vita-Chamber apparently doesn't play well with whatever Infusions are. But the whirring sound of the Big Daddy's drill spinning up interrupts her train of thought, the monster approaching Comstock with its weapon raised high.

But Comstock's not out of the fight yet, despite the ferocity of the blow; just before Big Daddy can plunge the drill through Comstock's back, he rolls over and brings up his crackling, obsidian crystal covered arm, tendrils of lightning lashing out at the metal-clad monster.

"Get outta there!" Abigail's words surprise Elizabeth, and the sight of her Hand Cannon coming up surprising her even more; Abigail looks as surprised as she does, muttering softly under her breath, "She says we need him… dammit!" And Comstock obliges without complaint, scrambling to his feet as the monster spasms under the effects of Shock jockey, snatching up the bag of provisions as he goes. Abigail's firing into the Big Daddy all the while, but neither her bullets nor Comstock's Plasmid seem to be inconveniencing it overly much; the electricity arcing across its body fades after only a couple seconds, the Big Daddy turning towards Elizabeth and roaring angrily.

But the creature's roar is cut short, the Big Daddy looking back and forth between Elizabeth and Abigail as Comstock makes it over to them; if she didn't know any better, Elizabeth would think it was confused. And she starts getting a sneaking suspicion as to why; the other Elizabeth is still being carried on Abigail's back, the redhead struggling to aim with one hand while holding onto her unconscious passenger with the other. "It's… is it after me? I mean… does it recognize me?"

"This creature before you is called Subject Gamma, the third prototype of the Alpha series of Protectors." Ryan's voice booms from outside, smug satisfaction thick in his tone, "A remarkable failure, but a failure nonetheless."

"Seems to work just fine to me." Grumbling quietly, Comstock winces as he holds his ribs.

"Gamma's conditioning proved entirely unsuitable for a Protector. But, one does not throw away a valuable asset. Rather, he will aggressively pursue whoever's genetic code he is 'bonded' to, returning them to me once acquired."

"Wonderful…" Elizabeth frowns at the genetic monstrosity as it approaches; the Big Daddy's not quite between them and the door, but she doubts they could get away from it, especially with Comstock's wounds and Abigail's passenger. "But if we don't… Comstock, can you…"

A sudden chill cuts Elizabeth off, sending a shiver down her spine. "Elizabeth…" Comstock's left hand is frozen over, spikes of ice erupting from his flesh, "Run!"

The Big Daddy charges the moment Comstock shouts, bringing its spear gun up and firing the deadly weapon directly at his chest. But the projectile doesn't quite make it; the frigid blast of Old Man Winter strikes the spear just as it's leaving the weapon, the Plasmid continuing onward to freeze it, the weapon and the wielder all at once.

Elizabeth, Abigail and her sleeping passenger are halfway to the door when Gamma turns into a living ice sculpture, both of them wanting to get as far as possible from the menacing Big Daddy. Elizabeth can hear Comstock running after them, his ragged breathing, frantic pace and the sound of tin cans being jostled against one another telling her he's only a few steps behind. But Comstock isn't who Elizabeth's listening for as she runs out onto the walkway. "Come on, stay frozen a little longer…"

But Gamma seems to have other ideas; the sound of ice shattering and an enraged, distorted roar comes the moment Comstock's out the door. He has to twist to avoid a spear launched after him, Comstock thrown off balance by the maneuver and losing a step as he scrambles to get his feet under him. And then Gamma emerges, the raging Big Daddy hot on his heels while its spear gun retracts the missed shot. "Go, go! I can't freeze this son of a bitch again without losing something!"

"Damn, he's right…" Glancing back as she and Abigail round the corner on the way to the ramp, Elizabeth grits her teeth; Comstock's still holding his shotgun and the bag of supplies, and he'd have to drop one or the other to use a Plasmid. And anything dropped is likely to be lost forever, beneath Gamma's giant metal boots. "If only we could… wait… Comstock! Throw me the gun!" Elizabeth manages to stop a few feet past the turn, shouting across the gap and the open air courtyard.

"Are ya' insane?!"

"Catch!" Comstock's shotgun is sailing through the air before Abigail can finish, Elizabeth having to lean over the railing to catch the weapon safely. And there's already ice forming on Comstock's hand as the weapon sails through the air, he aiming the Plasmid back at the enraged Gamma and freezing it solid. "I'm fresh out of EVE, won't be freezing this fella again anytime soon!"

"You can't escape Gamma, Ms. DeWitt. It can't be bargained with or reasoned it. It will look for you, and it will never stop. Sooner or later, he will find you, no matter where you hide."

"I wish this guy would just shut up…" Comstock grumbles as he catches up to Elizabeth and Abigail, taking his shotgun back quickly. And Abigail lets loose a loud, derisive laugh, at least as best she can while running for her life.

"You're one ta' talk! That's all ya' ever did back in Columbia!"

Abigail's barb draws a smirk from Elizabeth, and Comstock's scowl only seems to grow even worse. But the gravity of their situation wipes the smirk from her face all too quickly, and Elizabeth tries to catch her breath as they hurry down the ramp.

The ice seems to hold the Big Daddy for even less time than before, Gamma's deep, booming roar splits the air in the silent courtyard the moment it's free. And the three of them have only just made it to the second floor when the ice shatters, Elizabeth and Abigail both cringing as the noise echoes around them.

Bolting down the ramp, Elizabeth's mind races; they can run, but for how long? They can't stop so long as Gamma's giving chase, and fighting the Big Daddy has proven very fatal, so how can they shake it? She almost doesn't hear Comstock's surprised shout, the three of them just stepping onto the ground floor of Athena's Glory. "Son of a… not another one!"

Looking up, Elizabeth finds she's staring directly at the Big Daddy she'd spied before, this one the same lumbering, many-eyed model, the same type that killed her in Fontaine's. But this one doesn't seem to care, its multitude of eyes glowing a harmless yellow. And walking ahead of the Big Daddy is a brown-haired little girl in a dirty purple dress. Her blank eyes glow faintly, and Elizabeth realizes she's looking at a Little Sister.

And while Elizabeth and Abigail run past the odd pair, Comstock just stands there. "What are you doing?!" Shouting as she runs, Elizabeth finds him glancing back as the Alpha gets closer and closer. He only starts to move again when Gamma's almost breathing down his neck, Comstock sprinting towards the other Big Daddy while holding the shotgun and bag to his chest.

The many-eyed Big Daddy rumbles a warning as Comstock sprints towards him, and Elizabeth slows to a stop at the exit. She isn't sure if the man's lost his mind or not; what good is it to anger the other Big Daddy? But she gets her answer a moment later; just before he would collide with the second Big Daddy, Comstock drops and manages to slide feet first between the Protector's legs, startling both Elizabeth and the Little Sister. And Gamma slams into the Big Daddy at full speed, a bellowing roar coming from it as the yellow eyes turn red.

The second Big Daddy's drill spins up as he turns on the offending Gamma, and Elizabeth cringes as the Alpha recognizes the new threat. "Big Daddy against another Big Daddy… they could level this place! Comstock…!"

"Hurt 'im, Mr. B! Hurt 'im!"

Elizabeth finds Comstock coming to a stop a few steps away, his gaze turned to the Little Sister cheering for her Big Daddy. Despite the danger of being so close to the clashing behemoths, despite the fear and uncertainty of being chased through a deranged city in the middle of a civil war, white hot anger flares to life within Elizabeth as she glares furiously at Comstock.

"Comstock! Don't ya _dare_ lay a finger on the lass!" Abigail's shout only barely manages to pull her attention from Comstock, the fury in her voice at least matching Elizabeth's. And Comstock seems to jump as she roars, turning to face Elizabeth and Abigail quickly, "But…"

"I don't care!" The quiet 'click' of a revolver's hammer being drawn back comes from behind Elizabeth, and she glances back to find Abigail aiming it squarely at Comstock. Not that Elizabeth blames her. The impact of the two Big Daddies slamming into each other causes everyone to cringe, even Comstock, and he heaves a deep sigh after a moment.

"Whatever you say…" Abigail's already turning to leave as Comstock relents, and Elizabeth turns to follow after shaking her head, but not before catching him nodding gravely. She can't even look at him right now, Elizabeth's anger at Comstock still burning brightly. The man hasn't changed, has he…

Elizabeth and Abigale step out into the dimly lit tramway that connects Athena's Glory to the rest of Olympus Heights, Comstock coming up behind them slowly while the sound of metal crashing into metal and the roars of Big Daddies echoes from within the high-class apartment building. And the place is virtually deserted, the only signs of life coming from the slow-moving, automated trolley approaching Athena's Glory and the handful of people standing inside the pale blue, metal conveyance.

"We're… we're not taking that." Scowling, Elizabeth hops down onto the track running up the right side of the tramway as she shakes her head; she'd taken the trolley on several occasions when she'd been living here, but she usually found it faster to walk than rely on the sluggish trolley. " I think it unlikely that Gamma will accommodate us while we cross…" Comstock and Abigail join her on the tracks, the three of them and the unconscious other Elizabeth hurrying down the glass tunnel and away from Athena's Glory.

But the sounds of battle and distorted, bellowing roars of the Big Daddies doesn't fade as they put some distance between themselves and Athena's Glory, and the uproar within seems to be unnerving the trolley's passengers; Elizabeth's able to make out concerned murmurs coming from the well-to-do residents. "Elizabeth… does that sound like… it's getting' closer to ya'?" Worry's thick in Abigail's voice, Elizabeth finding her glancing back towards Athena's Glory.

But whatever Elizabeth might have said to reassure her is lost when something plows through the wall that separates the luxury apartment building from the rest of Olympus Heights, the sound of collapsing rubble and debris causing her, Abigail and Comstock to jump, all three of them turning on the source of the racket. What awaits her, however, does nothing to set Elizabeth's frayed nerves at ease; the many-eyed Big Daddy staggers from the dust and rubble, its Little Sister running around the dividing wall towards the wounded Protector. But her eyes are focused on what's behind the Big Daddy; the baleful crimson light of the Alpha's oval-shaped visor appears in the dust, Gamma crunching broken bits of the wall beneath its heavy boots.

And the moment the passengers lay eyes on the Big Daddies, shouts and screams come from within the automated trolley as it draws closers to the battling behemoths, Rapture's upper crust panicking and scrambling to jump out. And it's fortunate that they all make it out by the time the tram reaches its destination, if only barely; the many-eyed Big Daddy backs up to the trolley and, with a might roar, slams into the back of the metal vessel with its entire body.

The trolley lurches from its place on the tracks and up onto the stone tile, the wheels being crushed beneath as the Big Daddy drives it towards Gamma like a massive battering ram. And Elizabeth can hardly believe her eyes as the derailed trolley plows into the Alpha series Big Daddy; she can't tell if it was caught by surprise or not, but Gamma still manages to stay on its feet, sparks flashing into existence beneath its metal feet and the trolley's underside. "I… I should be running…" The thought crosses Elizabeth's mind, but her feet slow of their own accord as she watches the spectacle.

But the contest of strength between the two Big Daddies is over in a heartbeat; with a roar of its own, Gamma wrenches the trolley to the side, the metal vessel tipping over and landing with a terrible crash. But despite this, the momentum of the trolley carries it into the entrance of Athena's Glory with Gamma beneath it. And the damage is too much; the entrance begins to collapse, burying Gamma and part of the trolley in rubble.

"Is it… is-ah!"

A hand grabs her by the shoulder and pulls her around, Elizabeth blinking as she finds an out of breath Abigail before her, the unconscious other Elizabeth still resting on her back. "C'mon! We've got ta' go!"

"What the hell are you thinking?!" Comstock appears beside Abigail, his blue eyes flashing with anger, "Elizabeth! That monster could have grabbed you! Or even worse, you could have gotten caught up in their fight!"

A mixture of anger and surprise shakes Elizabeth from her awe-inspired torpor; surprise because Comstock hasn't been able to say boo to her since their escape, and anger that he has the nerve to talk to her like Booker would. "Then you'd just have something else to feel guilty about, wouldn't you, _Comstock_?" He bristles at that, but Comstock holds his tongue, the now familiar, somber look returning as he takes a deep breath. Elizabeth breathes a sigh, shaking her head as she walks past him. "Fine, let's go."

Elizabeth, Abigail and Comstock leave the crashed trolley and wounded Big Daddy behind, the urgency that had spurred her on abating some. She's exhausted already despite sleeping for so long, and as Elizabeth spies the Central Square Bistro up ahead, she frowns dejectedly; the place caters to the wealthy, and the few dollars Comstock had scrounged up wouldn't afford them more than a glass of water. But as the trio trudge up the tram tunnel, Elizabeth stiffens as something faint catches her ear, setting the hair on the back of her neck on end; a high-pitched whine, like that of a drill.

* * *

8:55 PM

A loud 'clank' sounds as the heavy airlock door seals behind them, Elizabeth breathing a sigh of relief. She's leaning against the cold metal wall of the airlock while leaving Comstock to close the door, Elizabeth rubbing her aching feet; heels aren't meant to be worn while running for your life, and she's surprised she didn't roll her ankle in the process. "No matter how powerful Ryan's Alpha is, it can't break through solid steel walls… right?"

"Don't know. Suppose we'll find out sooner or later."

Elizabeth looks up from massaging her sore feet in mild surprise; her voice had been little more than a murmur, and she hadn't expected Comstock to hear her. But Elizabeth has no interest in striking up conversation with him, so she idly slips her stocking-clad foot back into her shoe and pushes herself away from the wall. Instead, she steps over to the corner Abigail rests with her back again, Elizabeth's other self resting on the floor before her.

"How's she doing?" Kneeling beside her other self, Elizabeth gives Abigail a cursory glance; even with her nap, Abigail's had a hell of an ordeal before passing through the Tear, and she still looks plenty exhausted.

"She's… well, she's sleepin'." Abigail shrugs, looking down at the sleeping, younger version of Elizabeth, "Don't know what ta' tell ya', otherwise. She's alright, I guess…"

"That's good…" Gently, Elizabeth brushes at her counterpart's brow; it's strange, seeing another Elizabeth like this. "I hope she can keep moving…" Abigail just nods, heaving a quiet sigh before carefully picking up the unconscious Elizabeth.

Another 'clank' echoes in the small airlock, Elizabeth looking up to find Comstock turning the hatch, the bulkhead to Apollo Square opening as he does. "Suppose that means it's time to go."

It takes a few minutes to get the unconscious Elizabeth securely onto Abigail's back again, and the trio slowly makes their way into the darkened district. And the place is even more deserted than the tramway was, the only sound coming from a peculiar device to the right as they step out onto cracked stone tile; it only take Elizabeth a moment to recognize the Vita-Chamber, and so does Comstock. "Don't much care for the idea of letting Ryan know we're here, best keep clear of it…"

Elizabeth nods slowly, the group turning away from the Vita-Chamber to climb the stairs on their left. But all they find at the top is another segment of the Rapture Metro, the railway and trams sitting unused with trash strewn around the area. "Rapture's not doin' that well, huh?"

"You got that right…" Whispering as they creep through the dark tramway, Elizabeth keeps an eye peeled for Splicers or worse; Apollo Square's a hotbed of Atlas' supporters, and from the rumors she'd overheard on the way to Olympus Heights, the police have started rounding up dissidents and throwing them in here. "Not surprising that there's nobody on the streets…" Elizabeth would have much preferred using the bathysphere in the Adonis Luxury Resort, but that path had been blocked off by Atlas' goons, if the talk she'd overheard outside Athena's Glory was to be believed.

But the silence quickly gives way to a multitude of voices as they approach the eponymous Apollo Square, the hub of Rapture's transportation routes located at the middle of the district. "Ah, hell…" Elizabeth finds herself echoing her father as they step into the dimly lit Square; a mass of workers and residents are crowded in the mouth of the passage leading to the Metro and Bathysphere station. "Protestors, from the looks of it… and all in with Atlas, too."

The crowd carries signs denouncing Ryan, demanding equality or supporting Atlas' uprising, and Elizabeth wouldn't be surprised if a number of the psychopath's men were intermixed among the protestors. There are a couple of Rapture's law enforcement on hand, but nowhere near enough to contain a mob of this size.

"We aren't getting through there…" Comstock, the man unslinging the shotgun from his back, "Uh… how the hell are we going to do this…?"

"Uh…"

"Hmm? What is it, Abigail?" Elizabeth turns to the redheaded woman, the uncertainty in her voice piquing her curiosity.

"I think… I think I know this place…" Her voice quavers a little as she points to an empty passageway, Abigail's gaze fixed on a sign reading Artemis Suites, "I think I… er…" Abigail's voice trails off as she takes a step towards the Artemis Suites, and Elizabeth's eyes go wide as she spots a flash of red where there shouldn't be.

"Abigail, you're bleeding…" Putting a hand on Abigail's shoulder, Elizabeth stops her long enough to retrieve a handkerchief. "That means… Abigail, was there another…?"

"Yeah… an old lady…" Shaking her head, Abigail heaves a sigh; it's obvious her thoughts are in a jumble, something Elizabeth's seen all too often. "I… remembered this place when I came through with Booker. Never thought I'd ever come here…"

Comstock snorts and shakes his head, and Elizabeth shoots him a glare before turning back to Abigail, "Why don't we go there… it's not as if we have anything better to do." She offers the handkerchief to Abigail, the redhead taking it gladly. Turning to Comstock, Elizabeth gives him a steely glare, "We're going, and that's final."

He shrugs, slinging his shotgun onto his back again, "Sure, if that's what you're set on."

But as the three of them cross the Square and approach the tunnel to the Artemis Suites, Elizabeth can't help but glance back over her shoulder in the direction they'd come from. The railway they'd left is all gloom and shadows, and Elizabeth can imagine the monster Ryan sent after them stealing towards them in the darkness.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Oh look, Delta's big brother came out to play; nothing was ever mentioned of what happened to Alpha, Beta and Gamma, after all. And now they're in Apollo's Square, ground zero for Atlas' rebellion and an even more hostile place for Elizabeth and company to be. Also, the chapter title is sort of a play on what each person/thing in the apartment is incidentally: Abigail, Tinker; Elizabeth(s), Tailor, Comstock, Soldier (used to be); Gamma, Slayer (so much killing in a Big Daddy's duties.) Hopefully, the flight from the Alpha series and the fight between Gamma and the Bouncer came off well.**

 **Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter.**


	4. A Passing Acquaintance

**For new readers, this story is based off of and is tied into several other pieces of mine. If you're not sure where to start, I'd suggest finding Bioshock Infinite: Unbroken, as well as its prequel Unbroken: Song of Sorrow and the continuation Unbroken: I'm Home. The beginning of this story also has roots in chapter five of Those Left Behind. Thanks for checking it out.**

* * *

9:20 PM

"This is Artemis Suites?"

Elizabeth keeps her voice low as the four of them step into Artemis Suites proper, casting her gaze skeptically across the foyer; part of the reason for coming here was to avoid the mob of Atlas supporters that block the path to the bathysphere, but this rundown apartment building looks to be no less dangerous than it had been out there. A Splicer or worse could come charging out of the darkness or decrepit apartments at any time.

Pillars and archways surround the open-air foyer of Artemis Suites, and there's a short distance between the entrance and the clearing up ahead. The stone walls, pillars and arches that make up the ground floor are all an oppressive, uniform gray, only the brightly colored Circus of Value machine breaking up the monotony, hawking its wares from its place against the partial wall that separates the entryway from the foyer.

Elizabeth can hardly believe such a place exists adjacent to Olympus Heights, the residents of Mercury Suites and Athena's Glory living in the lap of luxury while the people who dwell here do so in cramped squalor. "No wonder so many flock to Atlas' banner… well, it's not as bad as Shantytown was at least, but… I suppose Apollo Square's no Pauper's Drop, either…" Elizabeth had heard stories of that slum, built into the forgotten recesses of the Rapture Metro; rock bottom for the ambitious citizens of Rapture, and a nightmare for those folk.

There's a staircase leading to the upper floors of Artemis Suites, set into the wall on the left so there's no need for a mid-floor landing, one of the arches partly hiding the steps up. And as they step into the foyer, Elizabeth spies a door on each side of the floor, the pair to the left and right set near the entrance while the third is directly across from the entrance. This one has windows, though, and Elizabeth can see rows of bunk beds set up inside, far more than a single family would need. "Umm… Abigail?" Glancing over at her redheaded companion, Elizabeth keeps her voice low, not wanting to draw attention to herself, "Where did you say the apartment was?"

"It's on the sixth floor." A frown touches Abigail's lips, she looking up at the many levels overhead; she's still carrying the other, unconscious Elizabeth on her back, "We're… going' ta' have ta' do some climbin'…" Elizabeth nods slowly before looking up, taking in all eight stories of Artemis Suites before grimacing; though it won't be as bad as fleeing from the monstrous Gamma, and she doesn't have to carry someone on her back, the climb won't help her somewhat sore feet any.

"The other me, she used ta' live in this place, before the war broke out…"

Elizabeth listens quietly as Abigail leads them up the stairs. She's still on guard despite Abigail's easy manner, and as it turns out, so is Comstock; the Prophet's holding his shotgun at the ready and scanning the area, mostly likely looking for danger. "Suppose it's best he's trying to be useful…"

"I got the sense she used ta' live somewhere else… Cameron Suites, I think? Made her livin' as a lounge singer. But she had ta' retire when she got older, an' while she wasn't poor, she an' her family had ta' come live here ta' make ends meet…"

"Family?" Looking up at Abigail as they make the second floor, Elizabeth gives her a surprised, curious look, "You remember her family?" Elizabeth wonders what that's like, remembering a family she never had.

"That I do…" A frown touches Abigail's lips, she stopping at the top of the stairs for a moment. "She had two sons, an' a granddaughter." The frown vanishes, a troubled look settling in its place.

"What were their names?" Stepping up beside Abigail, Elizabeth gently puts a hand on her shoulder. She's not quite sure why she's asking; she's only known Abigail for less than a day, but something about her story piques Elizabeth's curiosity. "Probably because she knows Booker…" Thinking to herself, Elizabeth puts on a smile for the redhead.

"Who cares? Let's keep-"

Elizabeth shoots Comstock an angry glare, silencing him before he can finish. And that was likely a wise decision on his part; there's a murderous glint in Abigail's eye when Elizabeth turns back to her, she staring daggers back at Comstock. "Umm… their names?"

"I..." The anger in Abigail's demeanor leaves as quickly as it came, her gaze falling, "I don't know. The only name I got ta' rememberin' was the lass'… Rose, sweet girl. Redhead, like me…" Her voice trails off, Elizabeth waiting patiently for Abigail to continue. But she doesn't, Abigail shaking her head quickly, "Sorry, don't mean ta' be wastin' time. Let's go."

Unfortunately, the architects who designed Artemis Suites thought it wise to place the next staircase up on the opposite side of the floor, and Elizabeth can't help but get the mental imagine of the second story's walkway looking like a blocky C. "Sometimes I have to wonder about these people…"

And Abigail only takes a few steps from the stairs before stopping in her tracks, Elizabeth very nearly bumping into the back of her unconscious other self. "Umm… Abigail? What's wrong?"

"Suchong's…?"

Elizabeth recognizes that name, though she's not sure there's anyone in Rapture who doesn't; Yi Suchong, father of Plasmids. His renown's probably only eclipsed by Ryan and Tenenbaum's. "Or Fontaine and Atlas, if you're considering notoriety…"

Comstock had told her that he'd tied Suchong to a chair after Sally had disappeared, back on New Year's Eve and before their descent to Fontaine's Department Store, and Elizabeth's not sure she wants to know what had transpired during those fifteen hours. "Wait… how did he get his hands on the man in the first place…?" But Elizabeth just shakes her head; she doesn't care enough to ask, and Elizabeth's still curious as to why the biologist could have triggered such a reaction from Abigail. "Hey… are you alright?"

"That place…" Abigail seems a little shaken, and she has to swallow hard before continuing, "I… I think I remember somethin'… but... ah, I'll tell ya' later…"

The trek up to the sixth floor is hampered by the layout of Artemis Suites and a small problem on the third floor; the staircase up had collapsed, and the group had to spend some time climbing onto the next level. And nobody was happy about it; not Elizabeth or Abigail for having to rely on Comstock to lift the unconscious other Elizabeth to the next floor, and not Comstock for the entire venture upstairs.

And it turns out, the upper floors of Artemis Suites differ somewhat from the rest of the complex; each door leads to a small hallway, another door set on either side with a pair at the end. The side doors lead to the apartments proper, a slight upgrade from the completely shared rooms downstairs. The bathroom and kitchen at the far end of the hallways are still communal, however.

But as they approach the home of Abigail's other self, Elizabeth feels a noticeable drop in temperature; a thin layer rime coats the door and the portion of wall around it, the small company slowing as they come up to it. "Well… that doesn't look normal…"

"Hmph…" Comstock growls quietly, displeasure apparent in his voice, "I'm betting there's something on the other side, and it won't be happy to see us."

"Well, I'm goin' in anyway." Abigail, she reaching for the frosty doorknob and pulling the door open quickly. The hallway beyond is filled with swirling fog, frost coating the walls, floor and ceiling, at least as far as Elizabeth can see. And with that, Abigail steps inside, the other Elizabeth still on her back and drawing her weapon as she goes.

"Alright…" Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth follows Abigail into the frigid hallway, rubbing her arms to protect against the cold. "Why is it so cold in here, anyway? Is there a freezer nearby?"

"No…" Glancing back quickly, Abigail shakes her head, "I can't figure it out, either…" But something looms in the fog as Abigail's looking back at Elizabeth, and she practically jumps out of her skin when she turns back to see it, "Hell's bells! What in the…"

A mass of rime-coated rubble blocks the way forward. "How the…" Elizabeth steps up beside Abigail, scratching her head a little. It looks as if something collapsed the ceiling and part of the wall, Elizabeth able to see clearly into the floor above. "And the floor after that… how did that happen?"

"I think there was fightin' around here…" Abigail mutters a reply as she stares at the debris, a mixture of melancholy and apprehension in her voice. "There's got ta' be a way through…" The pile of debris is nearly as tall as Elizabeth is, high enough that one could try and climb onto the next floor from atop of it. But the ceiling doesn't look particularly stable, and neither does the rubble.

"The debris won't take someone climbing over it. Best find a way to clear it."

"Huh?" Both Elizabeth and Abigail turn to Comstock as he speaks, his suggestion surprising both of them. "I thought you didn't much care for this detour. Why the change of heart?"

"If you're intent on finding this home of hers, we'd best get it done quick. Before some spliced up lunatic finds us." Shrugging, Comstock glances back the way they came, "Either we're digging it out by hand, or we'll need to find something that'll do the job for us."

"I hate to admit it…" frowning, Elizabeth glances back at Abigail, "but he's right. You can't expect to climb to the other side, especially with her on your back…" Her redheaded companion nods somberly after a moment, a dejected look crossing her face. "Cheer up, we'll figure something out…"

"Thanks…" A sigh escapes Abigail, she holstering her weapon and running her gloved fingers through her hair, "But if we can't find anythin'… I suppose there's no helpin' it…"

With that, the trio begins to search the neighboring apartments, Elizabeth and Abigail sticking together while Comstock watches for Splicers or anything else that'd wish them ill. But while they're on the upper floors of the Artemis Suites, the inhabitants aren't exactly well off or prosperous. The apartments are empty thanks to the protestors in the Square, but there are no signs of tools that could be useful or anything of the like.

That is, until Abigail calls out to Elizabeth, she hurrying over with something in hand, "Elizabeth, look at this." She holds a hypo of glowing, nearly translucent liquid in her hand, "This one of those Plasmids?"

"I think so…" Looking the bottle over, Elizabeth touches her chin thoughtfully, "Do you want it, Abigail? I'm not sure I like the idea of giving Comstock another Plasmid, and I really don't care to have any ADAM in me…"

"Sure… umm, here goes nothin'…" Abigail looks down at the hypo's syringe with a touch of trepidation, and she carefully lowers her sleeping passenger onto the floor before placing the needle to her left wrist. And a curse escapes Abigail when the needle plunges into her skin, "Agh! Hell's bells, that hurts!"

Elizabeth watches as the Plasmid works, Abigail's left arm twitching and spasming while grayish light visibly courses through her veins. She doesn't look to be all that happy, either, Abigail's teeth grit and her eyes screwed shut. Watching Abigail suffer through the Plasmid's side effects, Elizabeth recalls all too well how Booker reacted whenever he found a new Vigor; Bucking Bronco in particular comes to mind, back when they were on the way to the Hall of Heroes.

And just like that, Abigail gasps as the Plasmid settles within her. "I'll never get used ta' that…" She flexes her fingers, staring at her left hand for a moment before pulling her blue sleeve back down.

"So…" Looking Abigail up and down, Elizabeth crosses her arms, "What sort of Plasmid is it? Will it help us get through?"

"It's… the Plasmid's named Sonic Boom… yeah, it'll be gettin' us back there, alright." A smile teases at Abigail's lips, "Bet nobody back in Columbia's seen anythin' quite like this…"

"Good, then let's get back." Elizabeth helps Abigail pick up her unconscious other self, and the three of them make their way back to the frigid hallway. Comstock's waiting for them outside, and he falls in behind them without a word.

While the hallway is just as cold as when they'd left, Elizabeth still shivers as they step through the door, "Ah… why is this place so cold, anyway?"

Neither Abigail nor Comstock offers an answer, the former stepping up to the rime-coated rubble. And as Abigail looks over the obstruction, Elizabeth has to wonder just how this Plasmid works; she'd never heard of Sonic Boom, though she hadn't paid Plasmid advertisements much mind before. "Okay… you might be wantin' ta' step back some…" Abigail glances back while muttering, her breath misting a little in the cold.

Elizabeth obliges, but Comstock just stands his ground, the man still carrying both his shotgun and the bag of supplies. "Okay… here we go!" Abigail holds her open palm towards the debris, Elizabeth imagining the Plasmid coming to life as she goes.

An intense blast of air comes from Abigail's hand, and the frigid debris doesn't hold up to the Plasmid's onslaught; most of the rubble's knocked away by the blast, clattering loudly against the walls and floor beyond. And while Elizabeth's a touch impressed by the display, she can't help but notice Abigail's gaze shifting to something on the floor. The body of an elderly woman lies amidst the debris, preserved by the cold. "It's her…"

"Huh? Abigail? Did you say…?" Elizabeth's eyes widen as she comprehends what the other woman had said, Abigail staring somberly down at her other self. "Did you know she'd be here?" Abigail just nods slowly, a shiver visibly running through her body. And Elizabeth's sure that it's not the cold that's caused it.

"It's…" Abigail shakes her head slowly, a dejected sigh escaping her, "It's not why I wanted ta' come here… we should get a move on…" Stepping carefully around her other self, Abigail moves down the hallway, seeming to want to put some distance between herself and the other her. And Elizabeth and Comstock share a curious look, following after a moment.

"So, this was her home?" Stepping through the door Abigail disappeared into, Elizabeth finds her standing in the middle of a small bedroom, a radio and television before her. "What are-?"

"Who's there?!" A distorted, tinny voice splits the air as something crashes through the door behind them, Elizabeth whirling around only to find the same sort of monster she'd seen in the Rapture on Ice down in Fontaine's.

"Move!"

Comstock's pushing her aside and bringing his shotgun up the moment the frost-coated Splicer screeched, Elizabeth stumbling into the apartment. The shotgun thunders, Elizabeth managing to turn around as she gets her feet under her only to find Comstock struggling with the Splicer; it's caught the barrel of Comstock's weapon in its frigid hand.

"Get down!" Another intense gust of air flies past Elizabeth, slamming into Comstock's back and throwing both him and the Splicer out into the hallway. And while Comstock had been thrown for a loop by the blast, it also helped him get the upper hand; with the Splicer pinned beneath him, Comstock grabs the mutated man by the head while his hand begins to crackle with electricity. The Splicer begins to spasm, screaming and smoking as Comstock pours Shock Jockey into the insane creature, and he wrenches the shotgun free from its hand.

The shotgun thunders again, this time finding purchase in the Splicer's chest. And while one shot isn't quite enough to put the frozen Splicer down, the next three do the trick just fine, the shotgun going 'click' as the weapon runs out of ammo. "Son of a bitch… well, now we know why this place looks like an ice rink." Comstock gives Abigail a sideways glance, "Hrm… thanks for the help…"

Abigail doesn't reply right away, instead turning back to look around the apartment. "Can I… can I have a moment alone?"

"Sure…" Elizabeth glances back at Abigail while stepping towards the door, "We'll be right outside… is there anything you need?"

"No… uh, wait, actually… before ya' go, there's somethin' I have ta' tell ya', about Suchong's place." Elizabeth gives Abigail a curious look, wondering why she's feeling a need to talk about that now. And Abigail grins a little, "I think ya' will be interested in hearing what happened in that place…"

* * *

10:20 PM

Elizabeth and Comstock wait outside the apartment, Abigail still inside with the other Elizabeth resting on an armchair. It's been about ten minutes since Abigail had told Elizabeth about what happened in Suchong's 'Free Clinic' and the laboratory it hides. The place where the real Elizabeth was supposed to die, and where she and Booker were reunited. And the place that has another bathysphere on the other side.

And Elizabeth keeps mulling over what she'd learned, only half listening for Abigail. "At least we know where to go next…" The thought of going into that place leaves Elizabeth with a touch of dread, however; it is the place that she was supposed to die, after all, and who knows what could be waiting for them in those dark, abandoned halls?

"How much longer is she going to be?"

Comstock doesn't sound especially pleased with waiting, but at least he keeps his voice low. "I don't know, but we're going to wait for her, alright?" She's still none too pleased with having to speak with Comstock, but she still has to rely on the man, and refusing to speak is just a little childish.

"Fine, but-"

Elizabeth's about to hiss a curse at Comstock when a familiar sound interrupts them both; that of a Tear opening, Elizabeth's eyes going wide in surprise as a surprised, startled cry comes from Abigail. And there's a touch of dread; why would a Tear open in this abandoned, slowly warming Rapture apartment, and why now? "Abigail!"

But what Elizabeth finds as she steps into the doorway doesn't help to set her at ease any; the Tear has opened around the sleeping Elizabeth, and Abigail's run into the portal between worlds after her unconscious ward. And the Tear closes before Elizabeth can say or do anything else.

And just like that, Elizabeth's all alone in Rapture with Comstock, Abigail and her unconscious other self disappearing, as if they'd never existed here in the first place. For some reason that eludes Elizabeth, the thought alone makes her want to cry.

"Come on." Comstock's voice comes a moment later, his voice soft and low like how Booker would speak to her from time to time. He does seem a touch shaken up, but Comstock looks to be trying to not let the Tear's appearance get to him. "They're gone. We have to get out of here."

"We have to… really? You're going to…" Elizabeth trails off, unsure of what to say or do; sure, the bathysphere beyond Suchong's lab is the best place for them to go, but where after that? "There's nowhere for us to go! Even if we make it to the bathysphere…"

"Wait, what? The bathysphere?" A scowl touches Elizabeth's features as Comstock asks; she hadn't meant to tell him about it until they were under way. "There's another bathysphere?"

"It doesn't matter… where are we going to go even if we get there?" Elizabeth turns back to look into the now empty apartment; even with her burden, having Abigail around was both a comfort and a help, despite how sudden her appearance had been.

"If we stay here, that thing is going to find you again, Elizabeth. If not that, then Ryan's security or Atlas' Splicers will."

"But… how did the Tear open? Only the Luteces could… wait, could it be?" Looking into the room again, Elizabeth breathes a quiet sigh when she doesn't find the redheaded twins, "I suppose they'd show up now, it is their way, after all…" Still, Elizabeth's certain that the Tear opening on the other Elizabeth and Abigail wasn't a coincidence, and she can't shake the feeling that the twins are involved somehow.

* * *

 **Author's Note: So Abigail's disappeared from Rapture now along with the other Elizabeth. Any guesses on where they went? I couldn't think up a better chapter title than what's there. Not much else to talk about this time, so I'll just leave it at that. So, does anyone think Elizabeth's trip through Suchong's clinic and lab is going to be uneventful?**

 **I'll give the chapter another look over at a later time. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter.**


	5. Retracing Her Steps

**For new readers, this story is based off of and is tied into several other pieces of mine. If you're not sure where to start, I'd suggest finding Bioshock Infinite: Unbroken, as well as its prequel Unbroken: Song of Sorrow and the continuation Unbroken: I'm Home. The beginning of this story also has roots in chapter five of Those Left Behind. Thanks for checking it out.**

 **Foreword: Well, better late than never, right? Been pretty rough lately, finding time to write, hopefully things will ease up over the holidays.**

* * *

10:30 PM

"Elizabeth! We've got to move!"

"But…" Elizabeth looks back down the thawing hallway, wanting to stay while Comstock all but grabs her by the arm. She's only begrudgingly following her 'companion' away from where Abigail had disappeared; even though she has no means to do so, Elizabeth wishes she could find some answers, questions all that she has after the redheaded woman blew through her life with the other Elizabeth on her back. Comstock doesn't say another word, just leading the way with his shotgun slung over his shoulder and their provisions in his tattooed hand.

An unhappy sigh parts her ruby lips as she and Comstock step out onto Artemis Suites' sixth floor walkway, Elizabeth slipping past him to catch her breath and lean on the railing. And as she stares down at the ground floor of the so-called Suites, Elizabeth idly wonders just how this story of hers is to end; the other Elizabeth, the 'real' Elizabeth, was to die here, alone and forgotten. "Maybe that's why I'm here… to take her place…" It'd be really twisted if that's how reality settles its accounts.

"Elizabeth, you okay?" Comstock steps closer to her, still using Booker's stolen voice and actually managing to sound concerned.

"Just perfect. Let's… oh no." Elizabeth spots something just as she's about to push away from the railing; movement down below, lots of it. "Of course… it's late, they'd all be coming home sooner or later…" The protestors that had occupied Apollo Square and blocked the way to the bathysphere are filing into Artemis Suites, the majority making their way upstairs.

"Ah, hell… Elizabeth, come on, we can't wait." Starting towards the stairs, Comstock hesitates as Elizabeth turns her gaze to him. "Best we keep our heads down, 'less we want to get made. Try to slip through the crowd."

"Hide in plain sight? It's a possibility…" Elizabeth frowns, sighing quietly; Comstock might be able to blend in, but she's surely to stand out like a sore thumb. But the only other idea she can come up with is even worse; hiding out in the apartment they'd just came from until everyone's asleep. Someone's bound to get curious about the cleared rubble, and the possibility of Gamma catching up with them draws a grimace from Elizabeth, "Worth a shot, I suppose…"

Comstock takes off down the walkway once she's agreed, Elizabeth following as close behind as she can bring herself to. The first three stories are easy enough to traverse; none of the Artemis Suites' residents who call these floors home have made it up here yet. But the moment they climb down onto the third floor, the collapsed staircase only slightly less difficult an obstacle on the way down, Elizabeth finds herself surrounded by Rapture's impoverished working class.

"Stay close, Elizabeth." The whispered voice of Comstock's almost doesn't reach her over the murmur of the crowd, Elizabeth nodding slowly; the people around her are angry and desperate, tension thick in the air. She can make out bits and pieces of unhappy grousing; turns out, Ryan Security broke up the demonstration outside.

"Shit…" Comstock curses quietly, his shoulders sagging as she comes up beside him. "Can't get past Ryan's boys any easier than the mob before. You got a plan after climbing up this godforsaken place?"

"I do." Elizabeth glances up at him, Comstock meeting her gaze evenly. "We need to get inside Suchong's clinic. There's a bathysphere on the other side that can get us to…" Elizabeth stops, her voice faltering; where's safe in this insane, watery grave? "Well… away from here, at any rate."

"And how do you know that?" Comstock gives her a skeptical look as he asks.

"Abigail." Elizabeth chuckles at the scowl that crosses Comstock's face, "Seems you aren't the only one who can play prophet, Comstock."

"… okay, Suchong's it is."

Elizabeth chuckles again, quietly this time as she and Comstock start making their way through the crowd. But her smile doesn't last; normally, she wouldn't think twice about telling Comstock off, but she's too tired to come up with a better barb, or even take any measure of pride or pleasure from it. And she'd also normally empathize with downtrodden people around her, but the idea that any one of them might work for Atlas and try to kill her puts a damper on that quick.

"Running from a relentless Big Daddy and avoiding Atlas' followers would tire most out..." Elizabeth has to fight to suppress a yawn as she mumbles to herself, holding a hand up to her mouth. "Stop, there'll be time for rest once we're well shut of this place… I hope."

Elizabeth and Comstock make it to the stairwell with no difficulty, none of the Artemis Suites' residents so much as saying a word to either of them. And as they climb down to the less crowded second floor, Elizabeth following behind Comstock again to avoid the people climbing up, she begins to wonder about Abigail and her counterpart. She hadn't known the redhead long, and Abigail's abrupt departure was only a short while ago, but Elizabeth's starting to miss seeing a friendly face. And then there's the other Elizabeth, her 'sister', completely helpless and completely reliant on Abigail.

So lost in thought, Elizabeth doesn't notice that Comstock's come to a dead stop at the foot of the stairs. And when she runs into his back, Elizabeth can barely keep from yelping in surprise, looking up to glare angrily at Comstock, "What do you think-"

Comstock turns quickly, nearly putting a hand over her mouth before catching himself, "Shh… Elizabeth, look." He nods towards something, Elizabeth staring at him angrily for a few seconds before looking, "Might have a problem with this plan of yours…" A problem in the shape of four men and a woman, apparently. And Elizabeth can tell that they're all armed, even from this distance. "They're blocking the entrance to Suchong's… and odds are they've all spliced at least a little…"

"That's… that's our only way out," peering at Suchong's Free Clinic, Elizabeth's heart sinks, "and we can't get past them, either…"

"Of course it is…" Exasperation's thick in Comstock's voice, unslinging his shotgun while slowly stepping onto the walkway. "That's just… ah, hell, only four shells left…stay back, Elizabeth. This won't be pleasant…"

"No, wait." Elizabeth's feet are moving before she knows it, and she grabs at Comstock's wrist, "There has to be a better way. Fighting here will just attract more of them, Comstock." She's trying to keep her voice down, but there's plenty reason for her to be tense. The last thing she needs is gunshots drawing Atlas' men and Ryan's goons.

"There isn't, Elizabeth." Comstock answers as he looks back at her, the assurance in his voice reminding Elizabeth entirely too much of Booker. And while Elizabeth grits her teeth angrily, she quickly releases Comstock's hand; she's avoided contact with him as much as possible, only allowing it when absolutely necessary.

"Suppose I can consider this necessary…" A frown touches her lips; Comstock was about to kill those men and woman, she's sure of it, that being as much a reason for Elizabeth to stop him as any other. Elizabeth's accepted that Booker had to kill in Columbia, that Comstock will have to kill here, but she doesn't have to let him murder indiscriminately.

"Spliced up lunatics? Doubt we'll have a choice in the matter, Elizabeth."

Her mouth opens, a scathing insult on the tip of her tongue, but Elizabeth bites it back with no small measure of willpower required; all the anger and hate she'd held for this man comes back, but Elizabeth knows she'll start shouting if she lets it out. "Best not to draw attention to myself…"

"Hey, doll!"

Elizabeth freezes; the shout came from one of the men blocking their path, she turning to see the group coming their way. "Oh no…" Groaning, she cradles her brow in the palm of her hand; the men and woman look menacing as they approach, armed with pipes and a revolver, the fellow who'd shouted sporting lumpy patches of skin on the right side of his face; surefire signs of excessive splicing. Now there's no chance to avoid bloodshed, Comstock visibly tightening his grip on his shotgun.

"Elizabeth… hold this, and stay behind me." Comstock holds the plastic bag of provisions to Elizabeth, his hand already beginning to frost over.

"Okay…" Taking the bag, Elizabeth glances around; the number of residents out and about has thinned considerably, but there's still enough that they could quickly end up in a very bad situation.

The rest of the group share a number of small deformities, but the lead man looks to have spliced a little more than the rest. And as they come up to them, Elizabeth watches them come from behind Comstock, her dubious companion visibly tensing up and ready to lunge. But when the leading man speaks next, Elizabeth isn't sure if she should be surprised, worried, or both.

"Are you Ms. Elizabeth?"

"Huh?" Elizabeth blinks, taken aback by the question; how does this spliced up thug know her name? It's possible that Atlas told his men of her, but she doubts the psychopath would have called her 'Ms. Elizabeth'; she can imagine several vulgar words the bastard might use instead, Elizabeth frowning as she stares back at the pipe-wielding man. "Umm… I don't suppose there's any point hiding it, is there?" Answering timidly, Elizabeth steps out from behind Comstock and flashes the man a sheepish grin, "Do I know you?"

"I knew it!" The man grins widely and slaps his thigh, looking thoroughly pleased with himself while calling back to the others, "Hey, I was right; it is her!" But when the spliced up, excited thug turns to Elizabeth again, Comstock steps between them abruptly.

"Hold on there, pal. You have us at a disadvantage."

The moment Comstock steps between her and the Splicer, the thug's friendly, enthusiastic demeanor disappears, the cold look Elizabeth spies a clear reminder of the danger this group represents. "I'm a big fan of yours," the Splicer continues, talking around Comstock and paying him no mind, "What's a classy dame like you doing down here, with this guy? He your bodyguard?"

A quiet but incredibly relieved sigh parts Elizabeth's ruby lips, she holding her right hadn't to her chest; that's how they know her, from her short-lived singing career. "He's… yes, sort of a bodyguard, I suppose... um, I'd much appreciate if you didn't tell anyone you saw me…"

"Sure, Miss Elizabeth." The brown-haired, partly lumpy faced man answers quickly, the disfigurement making his smile appear a touch grotesque. "Name's Joe, that's Kennedy, John, Daphne and Seamus." Joe introduces the rest of his group in turn, "You need any help?"

"No, I, uh… just need to get into Suchong's place." Joe the Splicer nods quickly, still smiling.

"Sure, Miss Elizabeth. Just one thing before you go…" That worries Elizabeth, she looking back up at Joe slowly. "Mind if we ask for your autograph first?"

* * *

"Huh… well, that's convenient."

"What?" Elizabeth glances back at Comstock as he closes the door behind them, the slightly amused tone of his voice piquing her curiosity. And the hint of a grin she spies only makes Elizabeth even more curious. "What is it?"

"Never would have figured we'd run into fans of 'Elizabeth Comstock'." Stepping away from the door, the worn, gray floorboards creaking beneath his feet, Comstock chuckles again, "Never imagined you'd use my name, either, not after…" He stops, shaking his head slowly, "Never mind. Still, never imagined that you'd be signing autographs."

"Not my first time, especially with the stages Cohen set up for me." Elizabeth turns to face Comstock, "And I couldn't just walk around Rapture while going by DeWitt, could I?" Crossing her arms, the bag of provisions making quiet clinking sounds as tin cans bump into each other, Elizabeth leans against the entry room's central dividing wall.

"Didn't want me catching on early, either." A weary sigh escapes Comstock, "A Comstock calling himself DeWitt, a DeWitt calling herself Comstock… Booker w-"

"Stop. Don't you dare say his name, _Comstock_." Elizabeth hisses at her companion, anger suddenly flaring up within her despite the chilly tone of her voice. "He had his faults, his failings, but he did right by me in the end. And you…" Elizabeth can't find the words, falling silently as she fumes.

Comstock holds up his hands, "Fair enough. Just glad we're talking again."

"I… dammit…" Cursing, Elizabeth pushes off the wall and starts for the clinic proper; though she'd already decided that she can't just ignore him, Elizabeth's finding it far too easy to fall into conversation with Comstock. He's using Booker's voice after all.

"Listen, Elizabeth, I … wait…" Looking away, Comstock looks to be listening for something as he steps, "Is that bastard Suchong somewhere inside?"

"I suppose you could say that…" Elizabeth wrinkles her nose, the idea of finding the doctor less than pleasant; she's known since well before they stepped into Suchong's clinic that the doctor's no longer among the living, though she hadn't given it much thought. But a faint smell of decay hangs in the air, and a strange sense of apprehension begins to grow within her, getting stronger as they step deeper into the clinic.

"Suchong's dead, Comstock. Abigail told me, and his killer's long gone." Elizabeth whispers as they pass through a short hallway and towards the next room, frowning at the low sound of her heels on the wooden floor. She'd noticed on the way in that the hole in the wall Abigail mentioned was gone, looking to have been patched up some time ago; no disappointment there, Elizabeth wanting little to do with the dark, abandoned tunnel where the real Elizabeth was supposed to die.

"Maybe it's fitting…" Thinking to herself as she approaches the next room, Comstock following a couple steps behind, Elizabeth's frown deepens at the thought, "A false Booker, and a copy Elizabeth…" But what awaits her when Elizabeth steps through the empty doorway stops that train of thought, practically derailing it despite her knowing what awaits them.

"Huh… guess Abigail was right. I'd recognize that quack doctor almost anywhere, but…"

The doctor's indeed in the room, pinned atop his desk by a massive mining drill. But several months of decomposition hasn't done Suchong any favors, what little can be seen of his face behind a surgical mask entirely unrecognizable. And there's no smell Elizabeth would associate with a rotting body, just the faint decay she'd noticed on the way in, "He's been dead a while…"

But the Korean doctor isn't their reason for coming here, Elizabeth looking past the corpse to the far side of the room; she can see where the glass divide had been a noticeable change from gray, worn wood planks to cold, black and white tile giving it away. And the door she's looking for is right there, Elizabeth hurrying towards it with every intention of getting away from the grisly remains of Yi Suchong. Even finding the door locked doesn't slow her down, Elizabeth dropping to kneel before the lock and going to work with a hairpin.

"What in the world… Elizabeth, these cabinets are part of the wall."

"Hmm…?" Not looking away from her work, Elizabeth grins as she feels a tumbler click into place, "I think Abigail mentioned it… a secret door or some such, whole thing splits down the middle." For that, Elizabeth spares a moment to glance up at Comstock, grinning a little at the incredulous look on his face.

"The hell… what's the point if there's a door right next to it…?" Shaking his head, Comstock steps back over to Elizabeth, muttering quietly as she picks the lock, "Should've kept him tied to the chair for another hour or two, beat some sense into the man."

"Done." The lock clicks, Elizabeth standing and pulling the door open. With the path leading deeper into Suchong's lab now clear, she glance back at Comstock again, "If we follow this hall, we should be in the lab proper…"

"Hold up a second." Moving past Elizabeth, Comstock raises his shotgun and steps into the hallway, "Don't know what's in here, the place looks to have been shut up tight for a while. Elizabeth…"

"If you say 'stay close' or 'stay behind me' one more time, I'm going to slug you." Elizabeth slips past Comstock with a scowl on her face, the clacking of her heels on the tile echoing off the plain white walls. About halfway down the hall, the left wall is replaced by glass, but whatever lies beyond is hidden from Elizabeth; there's little light in the hallway, and nothing but shadows are on the other side.

The door at the end of the hall, set into the left wall and bearing a large, circular window at its center, opens up into a three-way intersection of sorts; the door ahead leads into the darkened part of the laboratory, while the door on Elizabeth's right has a familiar, greenish glow tinting its window. "A Vita-Chamber… then that means…" Elizabeth takes a cautious step towards the door with the green glow, Abigail's description of what happened here playing through her mind. "The lion with a thorn in its paw…"

"Lion? Elizabeth, you're not making any sense." The door slides into the ceiling at Elizabeth's approach, and she can hear the worry in Comstock's voice.

"I… er, the other me, the 'real' Elizabeth came through here, and she found a dying Big Daddy. She'd been… tortured, and drugged, but she managed to help the Big Daddy and the Little Sisters… by telling the girls they needed to give him their ADAM. That's what formed the protector bond, not Suchong's science…"

"Huh… I suppose-"

Whatever Comstock was about to say is rudely interrupted, a screech coming from the front of Suchong's clinic. "Ah, hell… Splicers… run, Elizabeth!"

Elizabeth doesn't need Comstock to tell her twice, sprinting through the open door and down the short steps as a half dozen voices shout and scream, echoing through the hidden lab. And while most of it is unintelligible gibberish, Elizabeth does make out one chilling fact; the Splicers are here looking for them, though perhaps not knowing who she and Comstock are.

"Where are you, little fishies?!" Another shout, this time far more understandable than the others, spurring Elizabeth to run harder; they must be getting closer for her to make out that much.

Running through the lab, past boards and desks covered in genetic code and other works of Suchong's, Elizabeth grits her teeth as they approach what looks to be a number of hanging and fallen Big Daddy suits; the way out should be just around the corner, but the Splicers are closing in, fast.

"Go, Elizabeth!" Comstock shouts as they approach the Big Daddy suits, skidding to a stop and turning to face the Splicers, shotgun at the ready.

"Are you insane?!" Elizabeth stops herself, though it's a damn sight harder with her heels. But she doesn't get an answer; another angry, droning roar shakes rips through the lab, seeming to shake the floor beneath her feet. And when it subsides, Elizabeth can only stare back the way they came in horror, a chill running down her spine, "It's Gamma! Run!"

Screams come from the Splicers, hunters turning hunted as the Alpha Series Big Daddy tears into them. And while Elizabeth while never be glad to see, hear or otherwise sense Gamma nearby, the monster's arrival gives her and Comstock precious seconds, both bolting towards the exit. The heavy steel door takes some effort on Comstock's part to pull open, Elizabeth running through the moment it's opened enough. And what she finds outside fills her with relief; the bathysphere is still docked past the news stand. But there's a catch; three men wait on her side of the counter, all looking as if they're expecting her.

"Miss Elizabeth Comstock?" The nearest asks, pushing something large and boxy into her hands, "Someone would like to make your acquaintance. Take this, if you please."

"We got a coup-whoa!" Running up beside her, Comstock damn near puts a shell into the man, "Who the hell are you?!" The men just shake their heads, and Elizabeth notices something odd about them; all three are wearing something akin to a blue butterfly badge.

"C'mon, let's just go!" Slipping through the mysterious men, Elizabeth runs towards the bathysphere, Comstock following hesitantly. None of the men make any move to stop them, Elizabeth and Comstock climbing into the bathysphere without opposition, even as the sounds of Gamma raging continue to approach. But as the bathysphere submerges, a whine fills the cramped vessel, Elizabeth practically jumping until she realizes what it is the men gave her; a shortwave radio, a woman's voice coming from the device. A calm, deliberate voice that bears a British accent.

"Good evening, Ms. Comstock. I know of your troubles with Ryan, and I have a proposal I would like to discuss with you, and your companion."

* * *

 **Author's Note: One guess as to who's on the other end of the radio. Now that Elizabeth and Comstock are clear of Olympus Heights and Apollo Square, where do you think they're headed to now? Nearly all of Rapture's available to them, but with the Civil War raging, where can the two of them go where Ryan and Gamma can't follow, or Atlas won't stumble onto them? And what does the woman speaking to them over the radio want from Elizabeth and Comstock?**

 **I'm fairly certain I've found most of the issues and inconsistencies. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I'll be taking a break from Rapture for the next mid-week chapter, should everything go as planned, so see you then.**


	6. A Devil's Deal

**For new readers, this story is based off of and is tied into several other pieces of mine. If you're not sure where to start, I'd suggest finding Bioshock Infinite: Unbroken, as well as its prequel Unbroken: Song of Sorrow and the continuation Unbroken: I'm Home. The beginning of this story also has roots in chapter five of Those Left Behind. Thanks for checking it out.**

 **Foreword: Sorry for yet another delay, but a number of problems cropped up all at the same time again. Hopefully, I'll have the weekend chapter done on time, but no promises.**

* * *

May 6, 1959, 5:20 PM

The clacking sound of Elizabeth's heels on the hard floor echoes off the equally dense walls of the safe house, a frustrated scowl twisting her porcelain features and ruby lips. Comstock can only watch her pace back and forth from his place at the table, his hands crossed on the deep blue plastic surface and beside a pack of playing cards. And the former Prophet has been keeping his thoughts to himself, preferring not to fall on the wrong side of Elizabeth's temper any more than he already does.

But she's been at it for the last half hour, and Comstock doesn't see an end in sight. "Only a matter of time before she's had enough." Looking down at the playing cards, a touch of a grimace crosses his weathered features, "And she's likely to turn her frustration on me… suppose it'd be best to face her now…"

Lifting his head slowly, Comstock peers at Elizabeth before taking a deep breath, rising from his seat. Her back is to him now, Elizabeth having stopped her pacing to stare at the safe house's sole steel door. "Elizabeth, getting worked up won't help matters any. C'mon, take a seat, you can beat me at cards again."

"Cards? Really?" Elizabeth glares back at him over her shoulder, and Comstock winces at the venom in her voice, "It's been five days, Comstock. _Five_ days in this concrete… bunker!" Now she turns to face Comstock, her crossed arms and the scowl that still adorns her features telling him he may have waited too long. "In all that time, where's our mysterious benefactor, huh? If she wants something, where is she?"

"Uh… least we're not captives… and there's worse places we could have holed up in…" Shrugging, Comstock glances at the door beyond Elizabeth before looking back to her; the door isn't locked, and the guard outside hasn't stopped either of them. There's just nowhere to go. The safe house is located beneath what used to be the old mason's quarters, the high-class area having gone downhill fast after the outbreak of the Civil War.

"Captives… I've been in a cage before, Comstock. It may not be locked, but this is a cage."

Elizabeth glowers back at Comstock before returning to her pacing, leaving the thinly veiled accusation hanging between them. And Comstock heaves an unhappy sigh, taking his seat again while picking up the deck of cards, idly shuffling them. "Great… would be a damn sight easier if we could stretch our legs a little…"

The district their safe house is hidden in is filled with the sort of establishments and folks that aren't exactly reputable, and both Elizabeth and Comstock aren't especially keen on being made after putting some distance between them and that bloodhound of an Alpha Series Big Daddy. The area overhead had become a red light district, and in a city as unrestrained as Rapture, that says something; working ladies are a common enough sight, Comstock running into them often on High Street while he'd been 'Booker'. The acts of depravity down here make Comstock begin to wonder if it wasn't the surface he should've been calling Sodom.

"Nothing like this back in Columbia… least, not to this degree…" Muttering to himself, Comstock grimaces; he has mixed feelings about his city, the belief he had in it and himself having long since turned to doubt.

Dealing the cards to play a game of solitaire, Comstock lets his thoughts drift to the past five days. They'd taken the bathysphere from Artemis Suites to this nameless red light district, and just as the woman over the radio had promised, they were led to this safe house by a middle-aged man wearing one of those blue butterfly badges. They'd passed by bordellos and brothels along the way, both Comstock and Elizabeth glancing at each other in concern and keeping their heads down.

The first couple days had gone by without incident, Comstock having slept through most of it after the running, the fighting and nearly getting killed repeatedly. And Elizabeth had slept just as much as he did, the past couple of days even rougher on her than it had been on Comstock. "Suppose she's had more on her mind, there being another Elizabeth somewhere…" He doesn't quite understand Elizabeth's discomfort, but Comstock does get the sense that it's nothing like meeting another you from another world.

By the third day, Elizabeth had gotten restless, walking around the small shelter with the shortwave radio in her hands. And while Comstock had been content to rest on the couch, he'd pushed himself to his feet when Elizabeth decided to step out of the safe house; he wasn't about to let her go off on her own, especially with the sort of folks she could run into out there. And the guard outside hadn't said a word, just sitting across the forgotten corridor from the door while reading a newspaper.

"Elizabeth's venture didn't last long…" Muttering as he finishes setting up his game, Comstock flips the first card on the leftmost column, revealing the queen of hearts, "Nothing up there for either of us..." Staring at the card, Comstock heaves an unhappy sigh.

After that, Elizabeth's mood just grew steadily worse, waiting for a transmission that never came and stuck in this concrete bunker, as she put it. It hadn't been so bad on the fourth day, but her irritability was plain to see by the time Comstock turned in for the night. And now she looks ready to throttle someone for answers. "What's taking her so-"

A knock comes from the door, interrupting Elizabeth as she mutters quietly, though she's not quite quiet enough for Comstock not to hear. And as the door opens outward, a now-familiar face steps through with a napkin-covered tray in hand; one of their benefactor's followers, who brings them their evening meals. "Evening, Tom."

"Evening." Tom tips his hat before stepping over to Comstock's table, placing the tray in front of him; the man must be in his mid-thirties, and he looks to not have shaved in a couple days, if the stubble's anything to go by. He's fairly forgettable, brown hair and eyes, not much in the way of distinguishing features, even those that would be a telltale sign of splicing. "Got the usual triple-s; soup, salad, sandwich. You two got plenty to drink, or you need more water?"

"We're fine, pal." Gathering up the cards and setting them aside, Comstock glances past Tom to Elizabeth; she's watching their visitor intently, as a cat would a mouse. Leaning close to Tom, Comstock whispers quietly, "Best get going before you're cornered…"

"Tom." Elizabeth doesn't give him a chance to finish, she stepping closer to their visitor with her arms crossed. And Comstock can only mouth the words 'too late'. "Who's your boss, and why hasn't she contacted us yet? She wants something of us, yet she leaves us hanging for five days now?"

"I, uh…" Tom looks back and forth between Elizabeth and Comstock, his expression a touch nervous, "I don't… um, good evening."

"Wait!" But Tom's already scurried past Elizabeth by the time she can object, the fellow hurrying out the door and leaving her to sputter indignantly. "… dammit." Elizabeth looks ready to throw something at the door, Comstock suddenly thankful he's on the other side of the room.

But she doesn't, and Comstock pulls the napkin from the plastic tray, "C'mon, Elizabeth. Best eat before it gets cold… huh..." The try before him bears two plates of leek soup, ham sandwiches and simple salads, the soup in particular catching his eye; most of their dinner's had a tomato soup or something similarly thin.

"Alright, alright…" Elizabeth steps over to join Comstock at the table, wearily dropping into her seat and taking one of each dish from the tray. And while she picks at her meal, Comstock leans back with his sandwich in hand, looking around the safe house as an uncomfortable silence settles over them.

The safe house is surprisingly well furnished, Comstock taking stock again of what's available to them: there's a modest double bed against the wall on the left, though Comstock hasn't used it once since they'd arrived; a radio, unlike the short-wave Elizabeth hangs onto, sits on a nightstand beside the bed; a standing television, placed next to the steel exit of the safe house; an aqua-colored couch, facing the television and where Comstock beds down for the night; a dining set, a small refrigerator and a cupboard in the back right corner of the safe house, where they eat their meals and keep provisions they'd found; and a small restroom, the door leading to it adjacent to the bed and nightstand. There's several other small amenities, but nothing too fancy.

The only problem with their situation is what Elizabeth's frustrated over; the woman who'd directed them here has yet to contact them, either over the short-wave or face to face. Elizabeth's radio has been silent, and they've had little contact with anyone. The last they heard from the woman was that the Big Daddy will need quite some time to track them to here.

"Been taking it in stride, but I've got to admit…" thinking to himself while taking a bite of his sandwich, Comstock frowns around bread and ham, "this waiting around's starting to wear on my patience some."

"It's just… god, I just wish they'd just talk to us." Stabbing at her salad, Elizabeth holds up her fork and the bits of lettuce as she grumbles softly, staring at the leafy greens without blinking for several seconds before continuing, "We don't even know if that woman's still alive, or if…" Elizabeth trails off, halfheartedly nibbling at her salad.

"Wish I could help." Dropping his sandwich back onto his plate, Comstock wipes his hands together before turning to the soup. And surprisingly enough, he means every word; though he doesn't give a damn about the woman on the radio, but Comstock would help Elizabeth if he could. "Listen… if we don't hear a peep by breakfast, what do you say to making ourselves scarce? For all we know, she could be trying to sell us to the highest bidder…" The thought had crossed Comstock's mind when they'd first heard from the woman, when he and Elizabeth had finally made it to the bathysphere back in Artemis Suites.

"I guess that's a possibility…"

With that, Elizabeth falls silent, the two of them seeing to their meals in silence. And Comstock sneaks a glance back at her every now and then; he'd stopped believing in providence long ago, faltering along with his faith in himself and what he'd thought as his God-given mission, but Comstock can't help but feel there's something to his resurrection and being reunited with Elizabeth.

Whether it had been done through divine will, the whims of fate, dumb luck or someone unseen pulling everyone's strings, both Elizabeth and Comstock have been granted another chance. And while Comstock doesn't have a clue as to what he should be doing with this second chance at life, there's something that he can readily agree to; this time, he'll do right by Elizabeth.

"I'll see her safely out of this forsaken city, if it's the last thing I do."

His spoon clatters in his empty soup bowl, Comstock placing the dishes back on the tray and leaning back in his seat, waiting for Elizabeth to finish as well; the arrangement so far is that they leave the used dishes outside the safe house or with the guard, though Comstock's pocketed a few knives some time ago. The blades may be dull, but having a knife or three could prove handy in a pinch.

"Okay… I suppose I'm finished."

Elizabeth pushes her plates away from her before climbing to her feet, leaving Comstock to clean up. Not that he minds, Comstock rising himself and stacking the used plates on top of his own. What does catch his eye is what Elizabeth left behind; she's finished her salad and most of her soup, but there's but a few bites in her ham sandwich. "Alright… Elizabeth, anything in particular you'd like me to ask for? Cigarettes?"

"No." One word, that's all Elizabeth replies with, she turning on the television and gingerly taking a seat on the couch, a quiet sigh parting her ruby lips. But as she massages her temples, Elizabeth glances back up at him as he reaches for the door, "I'm not partial to picking up the habit again."

Nodding, Comstock turns the handle on the steel door and pushes through it, the dishes and bowls rattling on the tray. "Here, pal." Stepping out into the dark corridor, Comstock hands the tray to the night guard; for all he knows, the man's a mute, Comstock having never heard the guard say a word. Hell, he's never even got a good look at the guy.

Letting the door close behind him, Comstock leans against the cold steel as what little light filters from the safe house disappears. He could use some time to think, and in the dark with a mute is the best he can do for solitude, aside from restroom. And Elizabeth's likely to clean up before bedding down, nixing that idea quick.

"I'd swore to keep her safe when that knife landed in my cell…" Thinking to himself, Comstock takes a deep breath and closes his eyes; he can see only slightly better with his eyes open in this darkness, keeping them open mattering little. "Doesn't matter if Elizabeth hates me, does it…?"

For a moment, Comstock considers going to search for cigarettes himself, but shakes his head at it; something he hadn't mentioned to Elizabeth was what the Vita-Chamber hadn't brought back when it resurrected him. No coughing, at least no more than the normal, and he's able to breathe a damn sight better than he has in as long as he can remember. "Still older than my years, though…" There's plenty that Comstock can't live with, but his white hair is nothing he can't handle.

Heaving another quiet sigh, Comstock steps away from the steel door and reaches for where he remembers the handle being. "Night, fella." Nodding towards the guard, Comstock slips back into the safe house, his eyes momentarily dazzled by the light. Voices come from the television, Comstock peering at the screen once he can see again before looking to Elizabeth, "You aiming to use the shower first, Elizabeth?"

"I don't need you worrying about my bathing habits, Comstock." Elizabeth glares daggers at him from her place on the couch, and Comstock shrugs while stepping past her. She mutters something beneath her breath, and Comstock glances back at her as he heads for restroom; she's watching some sort of sitcom, and it seems to be proving a worthwhile enough diversion. "Listen, if you-"

A crackling noise fills the safe house, Comstock stopping halfway into the restroom; if he didn't know any better, he'd think the radio was on the fritz. And it turns out to be a radio alright, Comstock recognizing the sound of the short-wave just as Elizabeth hops to her feet.

"Good evening, Ms. Comstock, Mr. DeWitt."

"We're here!" Elizabeth practically falls over herself as she runs to the bed, the short-wave radio resting atop the covers. And Comstock's standing right there, reaching down to turn the volume up just as Elizabeth shouts.

"No need for hysterics, Ms. Comstock; you are not a child." The voice over the radio chides Elizabeth, the woman's measured and unhurried voice giving off a sense of smug superiority. And something about the way this woman speaks bothers Comstock, though he can't quite figure out why. "You two make for a most peculiar pairing. There's little keeping you together, and seemingly every reason to part company, yet you persist in this ill-conceived partnership."

"We have our… wait, how do you know all this? We haven't… you've been watching us?!" Elizabeth's relief visibly turns into indignation, Comstock glad he's not what caused it.

"If we are to have an arrangement, certain precautions were in order. Ensuring you were sane and intelligent enough to understand my request was such precaution. Now, Ms. Comstock, I require a number of items that are currently beyond my reach. Should you procure these items…"

"Listen, you're getting ahead of yourself, ma'am." Interrupting, Comstock snatches up the short-wave radio, Elizabeth climbing off the bed to follow it, "Don't know about you, but I'm not partial to discussing business with a nameless voice over the radio."

The voice falls silent, Comstock staring at the radio as the seconds creep by. "Very well." The voice returns half a minute later, Elizabeth taking the radio from Comstock the moment it does, "My name is Dr. Sofia Lamb, Mr. DeWitt."

"Dr. Lamb." A hint of anger flashes in Elizabeth's eyes as she speaks into radio, "My name isn't Comstock. It's…"

* * *

"… DeWitt. I'm Comstock."

Elizabeth glances slowly back up at Comstock, her companion for the past week finishing her sentence. She's plenty irritated with his presumption, but Elizabeth just doesn't have it in her to scream at the man right now, not after spending five days cooped up with him.

"Yes, I've heard you refer to your companion as such." Dr. Lamb answers over the radio, her measured voice reminding Elizabeth just a little of the Luteces, "Fascinating. How you choose to identify yourselves is no concern of mine, of course; but whether or not we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement, ah… that is the question, isn't it?"

"We're listening." Answering slowly, Elizabeth starts looking around the room for whatever camera Lamb's hidden here, not moving from where she stands or turning her head much in an attempt to keep the good doctor unaware. "I'm sure I would have noticed a lens by now…" The thought threatens to bring a frown to her lips, Elizabeth keeping a straight face as best she's able.

"Do give me some credit, Ms. DeWitt." Lamb's voice draws Elizabeth's attention back to the radio, "The how matters little, only that I have been observing bears any consideration." Now Elizabeth does frown, Lamb's apparent awareness of her actions proving she's still watching; she's been observed in a cage for long enough, the circumstances Elizabeth finds herself in not sitting well with her.

"Now, I see great potential in you, Ms. DeWitt, and I believe we can be of service to one another. But first, a question; what is it that you desire, hmm? While I do wonder what you and Mr. Comstock could have possibly done to draw the ire of Andrew Ryan, that is of no consequence."

Lamb's voice disappears, the woman pausing for a moment, "Tell me, do you desire wealth? Power? Something more… base? Or perhaps there's something nobler that you seek. Helping others, for instance, striving towards the greater good?"

A quiet scoff comes from Comstock, Elizabeth glancing slowly over to him only to find he's doing the same to her. Something about the way Dr. Lamb speaks bothers Elizabeth, and she can tell Comstock's thinking something similar as well. And Elizabeth turns back to the radio with a sigh, thinking to herself, "Why does it seem that Rapture has a tendency to breed megalomaniacs?"

"Listen, ma'am." Comstock takes a seat on the bed beside the radio, and Elizabeth crosses her arms as she waits to see how this plays out. "None of th-"

"Mr. Comstock." Cutting Comstock off, Lamb still goes on in that measured, languid voice that Elizabeth's starting to consider a touch condescending, "While I do believe that you will be instrumental in our dealings, I am only interested in your companion's desire; your interests certainly appear rather base, revolving around liquor and gambling.

A hint of a grin teases at Elizabeth's lips as Comstock growls, a cross look appearing on his features. "Dr. Lamb, you want to know what I desire? None of what you've suggested appeals to me, not in the slightest. I simply want to return to the surface and get as far away from Rapture as possible."

Silence. Elizabeth lowers herself onto the bed slowly as she waits for Lamb to reply, the seconds ticking away. After a seemingly interminable wait, the radio crackles again, "I understand."

Lamb's reply strikes Elizabeth as odd, and she casts a worried glance at Comstock; their benefactor sounded almost disappointed, as if she were expecting something grander from her. Who's to say this woman is any less a lunatic than the Splicers they've encountered, despite the assistance she's offered and how level-headed she seems?

"Very well. I am in possession of a device that can see you to the surface, and I may be willing to part with it. Provided that you are able to successfully complete the task I require of you."

"Task… right." A groan comes from Comstock, Elizabeth looking up from the radio just as he starts cradling his forehead, "Alright, Lamb. Just what is it you need of us? It's plain to see you're not hurting for help."

"You are correct, Mr. Comstock, but nothing is ever so simple. You have escaped Andrew Ryan's clutches and slipped away from both his hunting dog and men often enough that I believe you both to be quite capable. There are other considerations, of course, but suffice it to say I need someone with your… qualifications. As for what the tasks in question are, let us just say, you will be retrieving some items that are currently beyond my reach."

"Suppose Ryan's like to call it asset retrieval…" Muttering beneath her breath, Elizabeth takes a deep breath and speaks up, "I take it that these items of yours aren't the sort to be found at the local drugstore, are they?"

"Naturally."

"Of course they are… so, what exactly are we looking for, doctor? And where should we start looking?" Elizabeth starts getting an uneasy feeling that she's not going to like the answer.

"A number of biological modifications developed by the late Dr. Suchong, what they are specifically I shall disclose at the appropriate time." Lamb's answer draws a scowl from Comstock, and though she can hardly believe it, Elizabeth's of the same mind, "As for where you may procure the items, I happen to know precisely where the first sample may be found. And once our arrangement is finalized, I shall provide you the location."

"Suchong, huh? I thought we'd gotten clear of that bastard…" Comstock mutters as he scowls at the radio again, "You looking to take down a Big Daddy or something of the like?" But the radio's silent, Lamb either not able or not willing to answer Comstock's notion. And Elizabeth has to wonder whether Comstock hit the nail on the head, or if her companion just hit close enough.

"My motives are my own, and you would do best to remember that. Make your way to Arcadia, Ms. Comstock. I shall be in touch."

Elizabeth bristles at the name Lamb uses, but she holds her tongue; Comstock's stepped on enough toes with his questions, and Elizabeth doesn't much care for turning the good doctor against them. Lamb has promised a way out, and while Elizabeth doesn't trust the doctor any farther than she can throw her, she can't think of any other way out of Rapture. "There's light at the end of the tunnel now… best not antagonize Lamb."

"Alright… suppose we'll be making our way to Arcadia." Comstock picks himself up from the bed, making for the small fridge, "Best get stocked up before stepping out there again." But he stops before stepping away from the bed, reaching down and turning the radio off. "Elizabeth, I don't suppose you care for my opinion… but I've a bad feeling about this."

"I know…" Grimacing, Elizabeth nods slowly; agreeing with Comstock's always a bitter pill, "Trust me, I know…"

"Do you?" Straightening up, Comstock sighs before continuing, his voice hushed, "The more I hear that woman talk, the more I get a sense of déjà vu; Lamb's reminding me of me, for God's sake."

"… of you…?" That doesn't sound like a good thing, a shiver running down Elizabeth's spine. "No telling what she might do, huh?"

Nodding, Comstock reaches down and switches the radio back on, turning back towards the fridge again, "Best be cautious, is all." And Elizabeth can only nod and heave a quiet sigh as he goes; he's got a point, but what else can they do?

"Alright, Lamb; you've got a deal. We'll get you what you need, and you'll give us a way out of here."

"Splendid. Then I shall be expecting news of your success." Lamb again, the doctor's voice sounding just a touch pleased. Given Elizabeth's earlier notion that the doctor sounds just as a certain pair of physicists she knows, that alone surprises her to no end.

"Okay… we'll make for Arcadia." Taking hold of the radio, Elizabeth climbs to her feet with the short-wave in her arms, "We'll… we'll be in touch, Dr. Lamb." With that, Elizabeth turns the radio off, staring at the contraption for a moment and heaving a weary sigh, "I don't much fancy being led around by the nose… too many unanswered questions…"

"You got that right."

Comstock's voice comes from the refrigerator, Elizabeth looking over to find her partner kneeling before the appliance while filling a canvas satchel with as much provisions as he can; they'd found the satchel in the safe house when they'd first arrived, a marked improvement over the plastic bag they'd been using before. "Comstock… I've been thinking..." She keeps her voice low, taking a step towards her partner, "Well, here's the thing; Suchong didn't work solely on the Big Daddies… aside from Plasmids, he was…"

"Made the Little Sisters, too." Comstock leans back to look her way, finishing her thought, "You think Lamb's got plans for a Little Sister?"

"Takes a cold son of a bitch to…" Her voice trails off, Elizabeth realizing she'd said something similar before, in the bathysphere after they'd been shocked by Cohen. "Um… regardless, you don't suppose she's meaning to hurt the Little Sisters, do you?" But Comstock doesn't answer, the man just shrugging indifferently. "Forgot who I was talking to. Alright… I guess I'm as ready as I'll ever be…" Scowling, Elizabeth heads for the door, Comstock coming up behind her with his shotgun in hand.

* * *

 **Author's Note: So, I'm sure most of you knew that it was Sofia Lamb who'd contacted them last chapter, and that she'd probably have some need of Elizabeth and Comstock. And while never stated explicitly (due to lore), they're holed up beneath Siren Alley, the red light district probably not having earned that name yet. Now they're headed to Arcadia at Lamb's behest, and that's an entirely separate bucket of worms.**

 **I'll be giving the chapter another look over at a later date, as per usual. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter.**


	7. Splicers In Sylphan Shade

**For new readers, this story is based off of and is tied into several other pieces of mine. If you're not sure where to start, I'd suggest finding Bioshock Infinite: Unbroken, as well as its prequel Unbroken: Song of Sorrow and the continuation Unbroken: I'm Home. The beginning of this story also has roots in chapter five of Those Left Behind. Thanks for checking it out.**

 **Foreword: So, short chapter, and with the two day delay that might sound odd. Let's just say that for a period of 48 hours around the time I normally write and update, I had about 2 hours of sleep and not a whole lot before.**

* * *

May 6, 1959, 7:35 PM

The sound of bubbles against the metal hull fills the bathysphere as it emerges from the depths, the submersible's occupants peering through the solid glass door at their destination. There's little to differentiate one Rapture Metro bathysphere station from another, the bronze 'Great Chain' wall statues, impassive gray stone walls and alternating dark and light tiles that makes up the majority of the dock distorted by the seawater that still runs in sheets down the canopy. Metal stairs lead up from the bathysphere dock to the Metro proper.

"So… this is Arcadia?"

Glancing over to her companion while speaking softly, Elizabeth cocks an eyebrow at Comstock; while Elizabeth had many an opportunity to visit Rapture's garden spot during her tenure as Cohen's disciple and 'Songbird', she'd declined each and every time, furthering her own agenda and putting Rapture behind her the only thing Elizabeth cared to entertain. Of course, it hadn't worked out in any way like she'd hoped, and she's finally visiting the nature retreat despite being trapped in Rapture and with the man she'd been obsessed with ending, only adding to the irony of the situation.

"I'd imagine the sights don't start till we've paid an entry fee."

"Yeah… sounds about right." The transparent hatch lazily swings outward as Elizabeth glumly agrees, the bathysphere now docked proper. "No point staying here, I suppose… won't find those supplies otherwise." Slipping through the opening hatch, Elizabeth takes a few, tentative steps away from the bathysphere, scanning the room as she goes for Splicers. Or anything worse, Elizabeth especially on the lookout for a diving suit clad monster.

"Dammit…" Comstock curses, Elizabeth glancing back just as he climbs out of the bathysphere himself, "Are you trying to get yourself nabbed? Elizabeth…" A glare from her cuts Comstock off, a flash of anger at his presumption swirling up within Elizabeth. But she takes a slow, deep breath, the anger fading with a measure of effort on her part; she scarcely wants to draw any attention, and an outburst is certain to do just that.

"Don't lecture me, Comstock. You haven't the right."

"Fair enough… but I'm taking the lead here, Elizabeth." She just nods as Comstock steps past her, the man unslinging his shotgun and holding it at the ready. Climbing the steps, Elizabeth looks up at the high-vaulted ceiling overhead, the same transparent barrel vault design as had covered the tramway in Olympus Heights. "Alright, best find a map or something…"

Following Comstock through the Metro station, Elizabeth feels a frown coming on; Lamb hadn't been especially forthcoming with what they were looking for when the doctor had contacted them in the bathysphere, only that the woman responsible for the creation of Arcadia is in possession of a certain object that she believes will help in her research, a number of chemicals and a genetic modification for which she hadn't given a name. And Lamb wants it for her own purposes, though Elizabeth has no idea what they could be.

"Lamb's playing her cards close to her chest. Doubt we'll much care for whatever it is…"

"I think you're right." Turning her attention back to the path ahead, Elizabeth idly looks over a large timetable chart set before the top of the stairs and the vague map of Rapture that comes with it. "Suppose we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

The pair continue through the Metro and towards Arcadia, Elizabeth glancing around carefully now and again. The stone tile beneath their feet bears dividing lines and diamonds made of bronze as part of the design, and several long bladed and leafy ferns grow from large, square-shaped stone pots along the railing and in long planters of the same make along the center, giving the station a slightly warmer feel about it. But if this is the most that Arcadia has to offer, Elizabeth isn't impressed.

"Dr. Langford's lab shouldn't be too far… straight through two doors, take a right at the end of the next room." Talking to herself more than anyone else, Elizabeth looks to the metal Securis bulkhead door ahead as she steps from tile to wood. "How do you figure we'll convince her to part with… whatever it is we're looking for? She's part of Ryan's inner circle, right?"

"We'll figure something, Elizabeth. This Langford don't sound like a tough nut to crack."

"You aren't going to torture her, Comstock."

"Never said torture." Comstock glances back over his shoulder, giving Elizabeth a lopsided grin as they pass through the first Securis door, "Shouldn't come to that, and I ain't meaning for it to, either. Don't suppose you have a plan for when we find her, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth just gives him a suspicious look, not believing his assurances for a second. But there's little she can do to ensure that he won't do something distasteful, Elizabeth looking as a sigh parts her ruby lips; of all the amenities their safe house had been stocked with, she'd been surprised to find makeup, and Elizabeth had made use of them for no other reason than to feel a sense of normalcy again.

"Wonder how long this'll last, now that we're out in the cold again…" Brushing a finger against her lips, Elizabeth sighs again, "Ah, this isn't the time… we've enough to… huh?"

The irritation and worry Elizabeth had been feeling disappears as the second bulkhead door disappears into the ceiling, a smile blossoming on her lips; the tiled stone, polished wood and metal gives way to lush grass, leafy bushes and tall trees, flowers growing in patches on the small, rolling hills and in the canopy overhead. While there are still walls and a ceiling, they're well-concealed or fitting with Arcadia's aesthetic, simple wood and rough stone making up the walls while the twin barrel vaulted roof is mostly hidden by the trees.

Quickly stepping through the open doorway, Elizabeth hurries over to a patch of flowers by a park bench, "Look at these… they're beautiful!" Taking a seat on the bench, Elizabeth rests her shortwave radio on her lap and touches her fingers to the large, pink six-petal flower.

"Heh…" A quiet chuckle comes from Comstock as he moves from the door, Elizabeth glancing back at her companion. "Just remembering something, back when we'd just left my office… 'cabin in Arcadia' ring any bells?"

It takes a moment for Elizabeth to recall that particular moment, but it comes soon enough; passing the group of Little Sisters on their way to High Street, Elizabeth nodding somberly once it comes to her. "Not exactly what I'd call a favorable memory, Comstock."

Looking back to the flowers and attempting to enjoy the pleasant scenery, Elizabeth manages another smile. It feels like an eternity since last she'd seen trees and grass like this, "Last time was… oh…" Her voice trails off as she's reminded of another city and another man. "I wonder why I'm thinking of him now…"

But Elizabeth just shakes her head and climbs to her feet; while she's enjoyed the reprieve, she's not here for a vacation. They need to get on with the job. So she steps away from the flowers and moves to rejoin Comstock, the unlikely pair starting into Arcadia proper.

"I get the sense that Lamb's real interest is in that modification," moving past the first tree, Comstock rubs his chin as they go, his shotgun held casually at his side, "can't figure if the rest is just to throw us off, or if she's got some other plans…"

"I'd imagine you're right. I suppose we have an idea of what they're for… coming from Suchong's lab, and all." That draws a scowl across Elizabeth's lips; with Suchong involved, these supplies could be anything from experimental Plasmids, the components to turns someone into a Big Daddy or even for making a Little Sister.

"The hell would a glorified gardener want with any of that?"

"I haven't the slightest, but I'd ask you to refrain from calling Dr. Langford that, whenever we find her." Elizabeth shoots an annoyed look back at Comstock, "And I believe the proper term is horticulturist, not gardener."

"Don't matter. The sooner we find the doctor's lab or cabin, the sooner we can be well shut of this place."

"I suppose…"

A sound from behind causes Elizabeth to trail off, she quickly looking back as hurried footsteps run by. But there's nothing back there, whatever the cause having already came and went. And anywhere else, Elizabeth might think she's just imaging things, but this is Rapture they're stuck in. "Comstock, I think we're being followed…"

"What makes you say that?"

There isn't a hint of curiosity in Comstock's voice, his shotgun held at the ready as another set of running footsteps reaches her ears, coming from up ahead without a visible source. And even though there's nothing to be seen and Comstock's ready for battle, the tension is already thick in the air, her nerves on edge and pulse quickening.

And then a high-pitched whine fills the room, Elizabeth jerking around to her right just as a Splicer appears before one of the large trees in a cloud of red smoke; the lunatic is dressed in a bloody robe of sorts, and wears a strangely disturbing mask made of twigs and leaves. Fire forms in the Splicer's hands, and Elizabeth only has a moment to react, "Look out!"

The quiet, idyllic setting erupts into violence in but a moment, Splicers appearing from nowhere and charging Elizabeth and Comstock; a box-headed psychopath with a Thompson ahead of them, the disturbingly dressed, vanishing Splicer to their right, and another of his ilk appearing from the way they came. And Comstock's already moving, dashing forward so the first Splicer's fireball passes harmlessly between him and Elizabeth.

"Run!" Comstock's shout is nearly lost in the blast of his shotgun, the former Prophet charging the box-headed Splicer even as the Thompson barks back. Elizabeth doesn't need to be told twice, either, she breaking out in a run and keeping as close to Comstock as possible.

Another blast from the shotgun, and the stuttering of the Thompson vanishes, but not before another fireball sails past. Elizabeth can't see the other two Splicers, the distinctive sound of their vanishing filling her ears. But the fireball surprisingly serves a purpose, a Splicer with a lead pipe running into view only to be immolated by the attack. Convenient, but still horrifying.

"Take a right!"

Comstock's shout tears her gaze from the burning Splicer, Elizabeth blinks as she spies what her companion's mentioning; an illuminated sign above an archway depicting a trio of trees and a name, 'Professor Julie Langford Research Laboratories', a Securis door beyond it with the same sign overhead. "Get inside, now!"

"On it!" Putting on as much speed as possible, Elizabeth sprints for the door while Comstock comes around, and she spots something peculiar about him; Comstock's shotgun is slung over his shoulder again, the fallen Splicer's Thompson now in hand.

The rapid-fire report of the weapon nearly deafens her as she runs, Elizabeth bringing her arms up to protect herself, though it is mostly a futile effort against the fireballs the Splicers are hurling. Howls and screams follow after her, though whether they're the result of Comstock's return fire or just the Splicer's unstable psychosis, Elizabeth can't fathom a guess.

But just as she's approaching the Securis, she's suddenly surrounded by red light and an alarm begins to blare, this nothing like the cloud created by the disappearing Splicers. "Ah, hell! Damn camera!" Elizabeth knows she has all of two seconds before the alarm triggers a response, and with the Splicer's in the other direction, she has no choice but to keep going. So she slides as the bulkhead door begins to rise, barely passing beneath it and escaping the baleful eye of the security camera.

The blaring of the alarm sounds again, and another shape suddenly crashes down beside her, the Securis door quickly closing behind Elizabeth. "Comstock?"

"Son of a bitch…" A groaned curse is her only answer, Comstock having dove through the gap headfirst and landed hard on his chest. And while her legs and backside are a touch sore from her abrupt entry, Elizabeth's suddenly glad she hadn't tried it his way. "Urgh… you okay, Elizabeth?"

"I'm fine… are we safe? I can't tell if we're safe or not… and who are those lunatics?!"

"Saturnine… bunch of lunatics, as far as I could tell from the papers. Looks like they've gotten worse since last I heard of them… suppose that's why the place is a ghost town."

Looking around as she tries to catch her breath, Elizabeth finds herself in a typical glass and steel lined tunnel that connects Rapture's buildings. Oddly enough, the far end of the tunnel lacks a Securis door, a wood paneled office lying beyond. And despite the Splicers' manic pursuit, none of them have appeared in the tunnel to try and murder Elizabeth and Comstock.

"Looks like we've arrived…" Comstock mutters as he picks himself up, Elizabeth nodding with a weary sigh, "I'll keep an eye out. Uh… maybe you should sit down for a spell…"

Normally, Elizabeth would flat out refuse, but she just can't muster the spite to do so. Instead, Elizabeth just nods and climbs to her feet, trudging towards the desk in the center of the office. "I suppose I can leave it up to him for now…" Leaving Comstock behind and taking a seat on the desk, Elizabeth places the shortwave radio beside her, allowing herself a brief rest.

* * *

8:15 PM

"Dammit…"

Elizabeth curses as she paces back and forth, her arms crossed and brow furrowed; Comstock had decided to search deeper into the lab, and has been gone for the last five minutes. He'd left her the Thompson, but Elizabeth has no interest in using the weapon unless she absolutely needs to. So the firearm rests on the desk beside her shortwave radio, Elizabeth giving it a glance every so often.

She doesn't know why the Saturnine cultists haven't stormed in after them, but Elizabeth isn't about to take a look outside and ask them. Still, the waiting is starting to wear on her nerves, and Elizabeth's trying her best to keep from doing something impulsive. "Doubt he'll have any luck, but then again… huh, maybe that's why the Splicers aren't coming in here; something in the lab might be hazardous to their health."

As if in answer to her thought, the sound of a machinegun burst comes from deeper into the lab, followed by Comstock cursing loudly. And Elizabeth feels a chuckle coming on, shaking her head to clear it before calling out, "Are you alright?"

"Fine!" Comstock answers with a shout, "Don't come in here, it's a damn deathtrap!"

"No worries, I won't." Another burst of machinegun fire drowns out her reply, but Elizabeth just takes a seat on the desk again and chuckles quietly. Comstock might have his hands full, whatever he's doing in there, but that's no concern of hers right now. He's certain to come out of there alive, Elizabeth unable to imagine Comstock falling so easily.

Occasional bursts of gunfire break the silence as Elizabeth waits, and after a few minutes, Comstock emerges from the lab, a scowl on his face and a few new rips in his clothing. "Well, I ain't getting any farther in there..."

A quiet laugh escapes Elizabeth, drawing a deeper scowl from Comstock before she turns to look his way, "Why didn't you just use your Plasmids and shoot them, huh?"

Growling, Comstock moves for the office's exit while scratching his head, "Didn't think it wise with those Splicers outside. Can't afford to waste ammo or EVE."

"I suppose those defenses might be keeping the Splicers out… but if Dr. Langford is in there…"

"We'll just have to wait for her to come out." Finishing Elizabeth's sentence, Comstock steps out of the office and back into the glass tunnel, "I'll be keeping an eye on the door, you have any idea what to do next?"

Elizabeth shrugs, "No, but I'm sure we'll figure something or other. Besides, maybe something good will come of the wait..."

With that, Comstock leaves Elizabeth alone in the office, with only her silent shortwave and the Thompson to keep her company. "Just like old times, huh… not the first time I've been left alone like this." It seems to be a recurring theme in her life, after all. "Wish I had a book to read…"

Just as Elizabeth's thoughts begin to wander, a curious sound crackles in the silent office. And the crackling grows louder, Elizabeth looking around until she realizes where it's coming from; the shortwave radio, though she doesn't recognize the crackling as the same static she usually hears when Lamb contacts her. Grabbing the radio, Elizabeth speaks into the receiver, quietly at first and growing louder with each try, "Hello? Hello?"

At first, there's nothing, and Elizabeth begins to believe she'd just been hearing things. But the crackling returns after her fifth try, and she can hear a hint of a voice through the static. "Dr. Lamb, is that you?"

"No, Elizabeth, I'm not Lamb."

Elizabeth damn near drops the radio as a feminine voice comes clearly from it, nothing like the calm, deliberate voice of Sofia Lamb and sounding disturbingly, surprisingly familiar. A voice she hears all too often, and Elizabeth suddenly has cause to question her own sanity. "Are you… are you… me?"

* * *

 **Author's Note: So Elizabeth's hearing herself over the radio. Shades of Episode 2 and Elizabeth hearing Booker? Or do you think that it's actually another Elizabeth? What sort of effect will this have on their journey? Now, as for a point of reference, Elizabeth and Comstock's journey into Arcadia is right after it shut down due to the Saturnine cultists. And there has to be more to it than we'd seen in Bioshock; a place like Rapture still needs space to grow crops, and while much of their food certainly came from the sea, it's kind of hard to get corn or tomatoes from the bottom of the ocean. I figured the Arboria I wrote into Columbia was much the same as Rapture's Arcadia. Also, there's still that mention of 'a cabin in Arcadia'.**

 **As usual, I need to give the chapter another lookover, which I hope to get to tomorrow. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter.**


	8. Whispers Through The Veil

**For new readers, this story is based off of and is tied into several other pieces of mine. If you're not sure where to start, I'd suggest finding Bioshock Infinite: Unbroken, as well as its prequel Unbroken: Song of Sorrow and the continuation Unbroken: I'm Home. The beginning of this story also has roots in chapter five of Those Left Behind. Thanks for checking it out.**

 **Foreword: And we're back. My schedule hasn't eased any over the past week, but hopefully I'll be able to keep to my usual updates from now on.**

* * *

May 6, 1959, 8:30 PM

Silence. That's all the answer that the radio offers Elizabeth, not even a crackle or hiss of static to suggest there's someone transmitting on the other end. She's well past feeling disconcerted, Elizabeth's state of mind more disturbed and disoriented by hearing her own voice coming from the shortwave. "That's assuming she's even there… after all that I've been through, am I starting to lose my grip on reality? Wouldn't surprise me in the least…"

"Elizabeth, focus." Her voice comes over the shortwave radio again, giving Elizabeth a fright as the surreal situation just becomes more so. "You aren't going insane, but you are in danger."

"I… we're always in danger…" Despite the voice's quiet assurance, Elizabeth gives the radio a suspicious look; she'd muttered her previous statement, and while Elizabeth isn't positive, she questions whether or not the voice could hear her properly.

"Splicers, Elizabeth. They'll be coming through that door in five minutes." The Voice falls silent, seeming as if she's taking a breath. "Dr. Langford isn't in her lab, either. But…"

"How can you know that?!" It takes a good deal of self-control to keep her voice low, Elizabeth practically hissing into the radio. How does the Voice know so much about her situation?

But the Voice just chuckles softly, "Elizabeth, you've seen all the doors, and what's behind the doors. You may not remember, but the constants and variables are still there."

"Then… then you're just…?" The Voice's explanation doesn't help Elizabeth's confusion one bit, and she touches a hand to her forehead as she tries to sort this out; the Voice's words remind her of the Luteces' explanations, Elizabeth reminded of how the redheaded twins' way of offering cryptic advice and misleading half-truths often annoying Booker. She even looks to Comstock helplessly, but Elizabeth holds her tongue when she notices him leaning against the tunnel wall with his back to her; she could settle this matter right here and not by asking if he can hear the voice, but Elizabeth is hesitant to let Comstock learn of any of this, whether the other her is real or not.

And, to be honest, Elizabeth's more than a little afraid of the answer, whatever that might be.

"Four minutes, Elizabeth." The Voice chimes in, Elizabeth quickly looking back to the radio as the countdown draws near. "You'll survive this. They'll underestimate you, Elizabeth. People always do…" The tone of the Voice is noticeably soft and comforting, and Elizabeth is grateful after the unsettling thoughts and memories that had been parading through her mind. But there's also something wistful in the other Elizabeth's voice, "Stay safe, Elizabeth."

"I… I will, thanks… whoever you are."

"Don't mention it." The Voice vanishes, and the radio falls silent, Elizabeth hugging the shortwave to her chest as the strange conversation comes to a close. But the radio hisses abruptly, startling Elizabeth as the Voice returns, "Elizabeth, a warning; don't trust Lamb. You know this already, but she's hiding something. She's not what she seems."

Elizabeth holds her shortwave radio up as the other voice vanishes again, cocking an eyebrow and wondering if she'll hear something else should she wait long enough. But nothing issues from the speaker, Elizabeth heaving a disappointed sigh before taking hold of the Thompson at her side and hopping off the office desk.

Wishing she had the time to make sense of all this, Elizabeth crosses the office floor with her shortwave in one hand and the surprisingly heavy Thompson in the other. Her companion's already glancing back curiously by the time she steps into the glass and steel tunnel, and Elizabeth holds the submachinegun to him once she's within arm's reach. "Here. You'll need this."

"Huh? What are you-"

"Splicers will be coming through that door in a couple minutes, Comstock."

"… the hell?" Cocking an eyebrow, it's clear that Comstock's skeptical, but the former Prophet still takes the Thompson and levels it at the solid Securis door. "What makes you so sure that…?" But Comstock doesn't finish; a scream in the distance cuts him off, and judging by the manic chatter Elizabeth can hear even through the solid bulkhead door, there's more than just a few Splicers on their way, "… I'll be damned…"

The metal Securis door begins to disappear into the ceiling seconds later, and Comstock's not about to wait for it; harsh, sudden reports echo in the confines of the glass tunnel, Elizabeth having to fight the urge to cover her ears as Comstock fires a short, three-round burst through the opening door. The door's only about halfway risen as he fires, Elizabeth able to clearly make out three sets of legs standing outside.

Chaos erupts in the narrow tunnel, Elizabeth quickly backing away as Comstock continues to fire into the opening doorway, screams and manic howls sounding as the Splicers are cut down and fire back in return. Elizabeth takes cover behind a support column that stands in the center of the tunnel, hopping the solid support will keep any stray bullets finding her.

By the time Comstock's weapon is spent, the corpses of six robed Splicers littler the floor outside, the solid Securis door closing silently now that the carnage has come to an end; Comstock doesn't look injured, but Elizabeth can't imagine that would've been the case if the Splicers had caught them unaware. "Suppose it had to be done… Splicers aren't-" A strange, high-pitched whine comes from seemingly all around, Elizabeth's sentiment dying on her tongue as crimson smoke rapidly surrounds her. "Ah, hell!" An invisible hand suddenly grabs her shoulder from behind, Elizabeth whirling around to face her attacker.

Bark. That's what Elizabeth feels as her wild swing connects with the appearing Splicer's face, and the Saturnine's eyes show a flicker of surprise amidst the feverish insanity. It's enough to dislodge the bloody robed Splicer's grasp on her shoulder, but that's all; the spliced up lunatic's little more than fazed by her desperate blow, and makes that perfectly clear by catching her wrist as she strikes again. And Elizabeth's eyes widen with fear as the Saturnine's hand begins to burn, a fireball forming. So she tries something a little desperate, the radio falling from her hand as she grabs the cultist by the collar, drawing her leg back and lunging with all she's got.

Elizabeth's not sure what she hits exactly, just that her knee's buried in the Splicer's midsection, the blow loosening his grip on her wrist enough that she manages to pull away. And while the monster sputters, that's the moment Comstock surges past Elizabeth, shouting something and slamming the butt of his Thompson into the Splicer's masked face as the psychopath clutches at his stomach.

The blow knocks the Splicer off his feet, but Comstock isn't done yet; he draws his weapon back and strikes again, the Thompson's stock crashing into the lunatic's face once again, Comstock showing no sign of stopping. That's when Elizabeth realizes what Comstock had been shouting, the man in a rage and showing a savage, all too familiar side as he repeatedly attacks the fallen Splicer; "Leave her alone, you son of a bitch!"

"Stop… Comstock, stop!"

Elizabeth's' almost surprised to hear herself shout, the eerie parallels between now and the events that occurred on the Hand of the Prophet leaving her more than a little shaken. But her cry has the desired effect; Comstock falters just as he's drawing back his weapon for another vicious blow, and she can see the rage slowly fading away as he turns hesitantly to face her. "Let's… let's just go…"

Nodding, Comstock steps away from the Splicer, Elizabeth grabbing her shortwave and walking away from the grisly scene as quickly as she can. She only stops to glance back while waiting for the metal Securis door to open; surprise is readily apparent in Comstock's expression, but if he's curious as to how she knew the Splicer's were coming, he's keeping it to himself. Not all that surprising, the bloody way he'd dispatched the last Splicer causing an uneasy silence to settle between them.

In the end, Elizabeth decides not to let it stay that way, breaking the silence before stepping out of the tunnel, "C'mon… we still need to find Dr. Langford." Turning away before Comstock can offer a reply, Elizabeth steps around the remains of the ambush turned one-sided massacre and out of the glass tunnel, she suddenly glad to be shut of the place once the greenery of Arboria greets her again.

"Sure thing…" Comstock's answer comes just as the Securis door begins to close, Elizabeth looking to find her partner coming up on her left. "So… am I to assume it's your turn to play prophet?" He gives her a half-hearted grin, but Comstock doesn't get even a chuckle out of her; something about his tone tells Elizabeth he's only half joking. And Elizabeth's not about to explain how she'd known about the Splicers.

Shaking her head, Elizabeth breathes a quiet sigh, "I don't know. Suppose it would prove helpful in a pinch, but I've no interest in playing prophet, as you put it."

"Fair enough." Nodding, Comstock turns his attention to the Thompson as the pair step out into the Rolling Hills, reloading with another drum clip and wiping off the weapon's stock on a cloth he'd found somewhere. And Elizabeth has to wonder just where he found those, glancing back at the now closed tunnel and considering whether or not Comstock had rifled through the dead Splicers' pockets. "Elizabeth, you alright?"

Casting another sideways glance at Comstock, the Thompson apparently not requiring his full attention, Elizabeth gives him a short nod, "I'm fine." Surprisingly enough, she is; Booker had done plenty in Columbia to protect her, including some truly bloody acts.

"Good. Then where are you leading us, Elizabeth?"

"Farmer's Market. I'd imagine Dr. Langford might want something to eat aside from chips and Pep-Bars."

"Guess that's as good a place as any to start." Shrugging, Comstock slings his Thompson over his shoulder while keeping pace, "Arcadia's a big place, searching it ain't likely to be a simple matter if we have nothing to go on."

Nodding, Elizabeth cautiously glances over at the man who looks almost exactly as her father, "Huh… you almost sounded like a real detective there, Comstock." That gets Comstock's attention, scowling slightly as he looks her way.

"I'd been a detective for months before you came strolling into my office, Elizabeth. Didn't have the 'experience' Booker had, but I made do."

"You…" Fighting back a caustic retort, Elizabeth grits her teeth as anger at Comstock's remark threatens to get the best of her; she well remembers what Booker had said of the Pinkertons. But while Comstock's words are true, for once, that doesn't mean Elizabeth has to like it. "You weren't any kind of saint either, Comstock."

Looking away and starting up the rough carved stone steps located across the lower Rolling Hills from Langford's laboratory, Elizabeth crosses her arms and heaves a quiet, unhappy sigh; right now, she'd rather get off the topic of Booker entirely. Thankfully, Comstock doesn't seem partial to continuing on the matter as well, the former Prophet not answering her barb or offering some sort of excuse and just following after her. Only the sounds of her heels and his shoes on the mossy stone steps and the tin cans jostling against one another in her satchel breaks the renewed silence.

The upper Rolling Hills is little different from where Elizabeth and Comstock just came from, the verdant scenery still lush and tranquil, and the canopy of the trees create a roof of leaves and branches that nearly conceals the glass ceiling overhead. While Elizabeth would love to take in the sights, there just isn't time; bloodthirsty Splicers could come charging out from that very same scenery at any time. Still, without the Splicers, the place really is beautiful, and Elizabeth allows herself a small smile.

But their progress slows considerably when Comstock moves ahead to step through a pair of sliding, wood and paper doors, Elizabeth following only to find her companion stopping just on the other side. And it isn't difficult to see why; the light of a security camera's cast on the ground ahead of him.

"You sure you know where the Market is, Elizabeth?" Comstock's keeping his voice low as he glances back to Elizabeth, motioning for her to stay where she is.

"I… I thought there would be a sign, or a map…" A frown plays at Elizabeth's ruby lips; the camera isn't their sole problem. The dirt and grass path at the Rolling Hills' exit extends all of a few feet before becoming a four-way intersection, and a bulbous security camera rests above an archway partway down the right path. A sign reading Farmer's Market hangs from the intersection's roof, an arrow pointing to the left path. But the problem is less in knowing where to go and more an issue of how; the end of the path ends in a mass of vegetation, blocking the door beneath a sign reading 'Tree Farm'.

"I'll take care of this, I suppose."

"Wha… wait, Comstock!" Elizabeth quickly grabs Comstock by the shoulder, just as his left hand begins to glow red from his Plasmid. "Are you crazy? Do you want to call every Splicer nearby to us?"

Comstock stops for a moment before looking back to Elizabeth, a frown touching his features, "Then how do you suppose we're getting through there, huh?" He waves to the camera and the other two paths; Elizabeth isn't sure where the right path leads, but the path directly ahead bears another neon sign in the distance reading 'Arcadia Glens', and another sign on a post bears the name 'Waterfall Grotto' in that direction.

"Well… I suppose we'll have to figure that out. There isn't anyone we can stop and ask for directions, after all…"

"I'd imagine our employer might have an idea or two on the matter."

"Employer… Lamb?" Looking down at the shortwave radio in her hand, the bottom of the device resting squarely against the satchel that hangs against her side. And while she remembers the warning the Voice had given, Elizabeth brings the shortwave up to her lips and clears her throat, "Dr. Lamb? This is Elizabeth. I need to ask for directions to Farmer's Market, and the path closest to Rolling Hills is blocked."

The speaker crackles to life in short order, the distinctly cold, even voice of Sofia Lamb coming through clearly, "Ms. DeWitt, am I to assume your request is in regards to our arrangement? Very well. The most expedient route to your destination is through the Tree Farm, a demonstration in farming and horticultural techniques. Now, I would advise you to continue onward, towards the Waterfall Grotto, until…"

Elizabeth and Comstock share a look as Lamb goes on. "Don't much care what her people think of her, the woman's got the smug superiority routine down."

"I… can't say I disagree…" Nodding as Comstock mutters, Elizabeth sighs as Dr. Lamb's longwinded, somewhat insulting directions taking far longer than they should. And the moment Lamb finishes, Elizabeth quickly speaks into radio while pulling her satchel around and unfastens the canvas bag's covering flap. "Thank you, doctor, we're on our way."

Any reply of Lamb's goes unheard as Elizabeth drops the shortwave into the satchel, she and Comstock focusing on the rotating camera and paying the muffled voice no mind. Their observation doesn't last long, though; the camera's unhurried speed and easily predictable timing affords Elizabeth and Comstock ample time to run down the path towards Waterfall Grotto and the Tree Farm.

* * *

"… seems like an unnecessary complication… or an obvious design flaw…"

"Hmm?" Elizabeth muttering quietly to herself catches his ear, Comstock looking back to his young partner as he pushes the bulkhead door open, "Something on your mind, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth's deep blue eyes dart up to meet his gaze, her arms crossed and a hint of a furrow in her brow. "Those ticket booths we passed through, didn't that strike you as… odd? There's a Metro station not far from here, yet this is where whoever built this place chose to charge admission?"

At the end of the Tree Farm and before the bulkhead they're passing through now, they'd found a trio of ticket booths and a pair of metal gates between them, the yellow, red and gray stone structure blocking entrance into Arcadia. The ticket booths were abandoned, however, and the gate Comstock had tried seemed to swing open easily enough. But neither of them were about to take a chance with getting back through, Elizabeth and Comstock searching for something to wedge the gate open with and settling on a small log. And to Elizabeth's mortification, she'd needed Comstock to lift the slightly moldering chunk of wood, she muttering something about a medicine ball and Battleship Bay.

The thought of Elizabeth trying to lift that log, and failing, draws a small chuckle from Comstock. "Don't matter. Once we're done here, we won't be visiting Arboria anytime soon."

"I suppose… perhaps only authorized folks can use that station… but how were we able to…?" Touching her chin thoughtfully, Elizabeth takes an unhurried step towards the now open bulkhead door, and Comstock shakes his head with a lopsided grin as he slips through.

What lies beyond doesn't strike Comstock as all that different from the rest of Rapture, he stepping deeper into the room; while the ground gives the impression of cobblestone and the walls look to be made of the same rough stone as in Arcadia, blue light streams into the room from either side, courtesy of floor to ceiling glass that provide a view of the sea.

The usual trappings of Rapture are also present; a banner beneath the green Farmer's Market sign with one of Andrew Ryan's favorite quotes, brass or bronze Great Chain wall fixtures, and a Pneumo tube to the left of yet another Securis door that leads deeper into the area.

"What's that sound…? Oh."

Turning back to face her, Comstock freezes; something he'd missed stands against the right window, tall and cylindrical with transparent glass doors. And while Comstock never got a good look at the device when Ryan's goons pulled him out of it, he recognizes the Vita-Chamber.

But the bright, blue-green arcs of energy and the accompanying hum aren't present within the resurrecting device, the Vita-Chamber dark. "Huh… guess it ain't working yet…" Glancing over as Elizabeth comes up beside him, Comstock has to wonder what's going through her mind. "Come to think of it… there was that alcove we passed by, suppose Ryan's fixing to put another there…"

"Let's not discuss it." Elizabeth's reply comes off cold and abrupt, enough so to give Comstock cause to worry. But she's already slipped past, Elizabeth making for the entrance to Farmer's Market. And Comstock can only sigh; whatever existential questions that Elizabeth's struggling with, the sight of the Vita-Chamber likely isn't helping any.

Once past the Vita-Chamber and through a long, curving, glass and metal tunnel, Elizabeth and Comstock step out into Farmer's Market proper. And if Arcadia had been built to be Rapture's forest and farmland, then Farmer's Market is the quaint, rustic village at the edge of the woods; the walls are white plaster, rough stone and wood, and as they come around a turn and onto a cobblestone street, Comstock spies a pair of delis off to their left.

But the most noticeable difference between Arcadia and Farmer's Market is also the most troubling; a handful of men and women walk the streets and stand behind the deli counters, and while a less obvious threat than the vanishing Splicers that had attacked them, any one of these folks could bring Ryan Security down on Elizabeth and Comstock's heads.

"Comstock, look. That's Langford."

"Huh… that's convenient." Following Elizabeth's gaze, Comstock spies a bespectacled woman with brown curls and wearing a green and white dress rounding a corner, a pair of bags in hand and heading their way. "Excuse me, miss?"

"I'm sorry, I don't have any change…" Langford barely looks up as she speaks, but she slows considerably when she lays eyes on the two of them. "Aren't you… Cohen's girl? Elizabeth?"

"Umm… I suppose I was, yes. Have we met?" Elizabeth looks taken aback as she answers, but still manages a polite smile.

"No, I don't believe I've had the pleasure, but I attended your performance at Fleet Hall." Dr. Langford shifts her bags to one hand and adjusts her glasses as she peers back at Elizabeth, "I'm curious as to what brings you to this neck of the woods. And who is this you're with?"

"Just a private dick, ma'am."

"Uh, Dr. Langford?" Elizabeth quickly interrupts, taking the doctor's attention from Comstock. "To be honest, we've come to see you, doctor. We… need something of yours, that came from Suchong."

"Oh." Langford takes a deep breath, shaking her head slowly. "So that's what you two are about. Well, it is of no consequence; Suchong's modifications were wholly unsuitable to my purpose. Perhaps we could come to an arrangement; I need to return to my laboratory, but those aging Saturnine frat boys are likely to accost me. If you see to my safe return, the vials are yours."

"Another arrangement…" Comstock grimaces quietly, "Just great…"

* * *

 **Author's Note: Now that they found Langford, it should be smooth sailing till they're onto Lamb's next task, right?** **It's a good walk from Farmer's Market to Langford's lab. A** **nd while one Elizabeth's trying to help out this Elizabeth, who knows where this will lead. Now, Bioshock's lore states that at the start of the Civil War, looters ransacked Farmer's Market and many of the vendors went to fight for one side or the other, but a number still remained. While there wasn't much of the civilian population of the area in this chapter, I figured they'd still be there at this point in time.**

 **The chapter should be vetted well enough, but I'll take another look with fresh eyes at a later date. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter. If all goes according to plan, the weekend chapter will hopefully be up by Saturday or Sunday night, though it could be as late as Monday.**


	9. Serpents In The Garden

**For new readers, this story is based off of and is tied into several other pieces of mine. If you're not sure where to start, I'd suggest finding Bioshock Infinite: Unbroken, as well as its prequel Unbroken: Song of Sorrow and the continuation Unbroken: I'm Home. The beginning of this story also has roots in chapter five of Those Left Behind. Thanks for checking it out.**

* * *

9:20 PM

"Here we are… finally."

The relief in Elizabeth's voice is almost palpable as the trio reach the bottom of the stairs, enough so that both Comstock and Dr. Langford stop to glance back at her; Comstock's been leading their little company through the verdant but seemingly abandoned halls of Arcadia, watching the shadows with his shotgun at the ready, Dr. Langford following close behind with her bags held close to her body. Which leaves Elizabeth with taking up the rear, she and Comstock keeping the good doctor between them and as 'safe' as they can, given the circumstances.

Their passage through Rapture's verdant playground and vacation spot has been a slow, tense matter, Comstock's gaze darting to any sign of movement; not that keeping his eyes peeled would help with the sorts that might come after them, the vanishing Saturnine cultists like enough to get the drop on them one way or the other. Still, Comstock has stretched his senses as far as he can, listening for anything that might warn of an attack.

But their journey had gone virtually unopposed, the only evidence of Splicers anywhere in the vicinity being the occasional shadow flitting by in the distance and one of those twisted bark and twig masks left over the doorway into the Rolling Hills. "Suppose the fools must've learned their lesson… best get this over with, can't imagine it'll last long."

Dr. Langford has been surprised by the lack of Splicers, but that had paled in comparison to the look Comstock spied on her face as she got to know Elizabeth; they'd had a short conversation on the way back to Arcadia, and while everyone had been a touch tense as Comstock led them back to Langford's lab, she and Elizabeth continued on in hushed voices from time to time.

"Guessing the doc don't expect much from Cohen's 'disciples'…" A touch of a lopsided grin tugs at Comstock's features; Elizabeth's plenty bright, something he doubts Langford attributes to anyone who'd work under that lunatic Cohen.

Elizabeth had shown an interest in Langford's work, Comstock overhearing snippets of conversation whenever they'd had a moment to spare. Most of it went well over Comstock's head, and he's not sure if even Elizabeth understood it completely, but he did pick out bits and pieces here and there; 'reanimation' had stuck in his mind, and Comstock needed a second to piece together the rest of the statement. And he'd shaken his head slowly when he recalled that the difference between reanimation and resurrection are mostly a matter of semantics.

She's working on creating a vector of some sort that should be capable of reanimating dead plant matter, which is the reason she'd procured some of Suchong's material and research; Langford theorizes that the key to her goal is found in ADAM or a derivative of the substance. And while Comstock doesn't much see the point of such an invention, it doesn't surprise him one bit that she's working on something of this nature, given Dr. Langford's expertise. "Been a while since I'd heard that name… even longer since I'd thought of Lazarus' story…"

"What's that?" The mildly surprised tone of Elizabeth's voice causes Comstock to hesitate, a touch of a frown tugging at his features; he hadn't realized he'd muttered that out loud, Comstock scratching his head while looking back to Elizabeth. "Huh… I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, your recognizing a biblical name. Your past "occupation" certainly lent to that."

Comstock can only shrug as he brings his hand back to rest on the stock of his shotgun, though there's something in Elizabeth's tone that catches his ear; it's more than simple matter-of-fact, but not quite the accusing manner he'd become accustomed to. And while Elizabeth's not all that surprised, Dr. Langford's giving Comstock a curious look, "Puzzling. I cannot fathom what manner of… occupation of that nature that could require similar skills to that of a private investigator."

"Ah…" For a brief moment, Comstock entertains the notion of just coming out and telling the botanist the truth, that before coming to Rapture he'd been the Prophet and ruler of a city that floated among the heavens. But the last thing he needs is Dr. Langford thinking him insane or a fool, Comstock slowly shaking his head, "It's complicated... used to be my business, in a matter of speaking. Let's leave it at that." The inquisitive look in Langford's eye doesn't lessen any, but she doesn't press Comstock any further. "C'mon, let's get this over with."

"Yes, lets… huh? What…?"

Langford stops midsentence as the trio step out onto the grass, Comstock heaving an exasperated sigh at yet another interruption. But looking back, Comstock finds Elizabeth's followed Langford's gaze, she cursing quietly before speaking up, "Oh… um, we thought to visit your lab before we realized you were out, doctor…"

"I can see that, yes." The measure of surprise in Langford's voice isn't as great as it had been when she first laid eyes on their destination. And Comstock has to admit, he'd forgotten about the mess he and Elizabeth left behind; the corpses of the Splicers still lay where they'd fallen, their bloody and bullet-ridden bodies littering the ground just after the entryway to Langford's lab. "Am I correct in assuming this would be your handiwork?"

"You'd be right, ma'am." Nodding slowly, Comstock carefully watches the brunette, bespectacled doctor's face for any sign of reaction. But there's nothing, no revulsion or pause, Langford simply adjusting her glasses and looking back to Comstock with a shrug. Seems the doctor's made of sterner stuff than Comstock had given her.

Stepping over the corpses and into the lab, Dr. Langford takes the lead, disarming the various defenses as they go. The lab is typical of what Comstock's seen escaping Hephaestus, a number of machines who's purpose elude him are line the walls, though there's an occasional tree growing in tall, narrow glass cages. And when they finally approach the lab proper, Langford quickly punches in a combination unlocking the door, allowing Elizabeth and Comstock inside.

"I believe this is what you seek." Picking up a small, brown metal case, no more than half a foot long, half that wide and maybe an inch deep, Langford opens the lid while handing it to Elizabeth, "I found the substance to be incompatible with my needs, though my tests were rather… comprehensive." There are six vials lying in grooves in the case and two empty slots, likely what Langford used in her experiments.

"Thank you, doctor." Grinning, Elizabeth closes the case and slips it into her satchel, "We'll be on our…" But the harsh, static buzz of a speaker fills the lab, interrupting Elizabeth.

"Ms. DeWitt. You're proving a difficult person to locate."

"Ryan?!" Langford spits the name like a curse, displeasure thick in her voice and she visibly gritting her teeth as she looks towards the roof, before glancing to Elizabeth and Comstock, "What…?"

"Dr. Langford, my security forces are on their way to apprehend your companions, I suggest you distance yourself from them. They are fugitives, doctor, and I truly hope you were unaware of their status as such. And as for Ms. DeWitt and her accomplice, it would be in your best interest to… cooperate. You will not be able to return to Farmer's Market, and I've sent another deterrent to keep you from the nearby Metro."

Langford looks more than a little startled by Ryan's statement, but the botanist manages to compose herself, taking a breath before turning to Elizabeth and Comstock with a hard look in her eye. "Run. I must reactivate my defenses, but they should take some time before they can prove lethal. Perhaps just after you've both escaped my lab."

Comstock doesn't need to be told twice, he taking off and sprinting through the lab with Elizabeth close on his heels, she shouting back thanks again before they're gone. And Comstock supposes he should be thankful as well; Langford's going through the motions, turrets and cameras coming back to life just after they're past where the defenses would be a danger.

They can't make for the Farmer's Market, Ryan Security likely to have the place well secured by the time he and Elizabeth make it there, leaving their only way out Arcadia's Metro. But whatever Ryan meant by 'another deterrent', Comstock figures that doesn't change the fact they have all of one means of escape.

But before they'd gotten even halfway through the lower Rolling Hills, the Securis door to the Metro opens, yellow light pouring out from beyond and a long, rumbling groan sounding. While Comstock isn't one to let himself be affected easily, the sight and sound of the thing at the end of the Rolling Hills sends a shiver down his spine.

The Alpha series Big Daddy steps out onto the grass, the monster that Ryan had set on him and Elizabeth staring right at the two of them. "G-Gamma…"

"Elizabeth…"

* * *

"Run!"

A sharp gasp escapes Elizabeth's ruby lips as a strong hand suddenly grabs her by the wrist, and she quickly comes to her senses. The shouting voice that urges her to run and the hand pulling her along to do so belong to her 'partner', Comstock seemingly unfazed by the monstrous Gamma's unexpected arrival. Unfazed, but only in the sense that he didn't falter at the sight of Gamma; after their last encounter with the dogged, implacable Alpha series, Elizabeth can't imagine Comstock without a sense of caution towards the lethal beast. "Run, Elizabeth!"

"R-right!"

Making to run as Comstock's grip on her wrist eases, Elizabeth finds herself suddenly pitching forward; she's nearly tripped over her own feet, her legs less than responsive, the satchel slung over her shoulder swinging forward and adding its weight to her balance issues. Gamma's appearance and the danger it represents must have shaken Elizabeth more than she realized. Fortunately, Comstock hadn't let go entirely yet, Elizabeth catching herself on him and getting her feet under her quickly, just as another inhuman, bestial roar splits the air. And she runs with everything she has, Elizabeth fully aware of what will come to pass should the Big Daddy capture her.

All the while, the heavy, clanging footfalls of her pursuer fills Elizabeth's ears and shakes the ground beneath her feet, she only sparing a frantic look back as she approaches the stairs across from Langford's lab; Gamma's already halfway across the stretch of trees and plants that make up this part of Rolling Hills, and while the Alpha series Big Daddy isn't moving as swiftly as Elizabeth recalls, that gives her little comfort as she spies what it's carrying.

Gamma's no longer armed with the spear gun that it wielded on their last encounter, instead brandishing a pitch black, many barreled weapon that's easily as long as Comstock is tall. Even though she spends barely a moment looking back at her pursuer, Elizabeth's eyes widen with recognition and no small measure of dread, "Oh no… Comstock, it's got a Gatling gun!"

"Of course it does…!" The exasperation in Comstock's voice as it comes from just up the stairs is plain to hear, Elizabeth hurrying up the stone steps after him.

"What do we do?!"

"I don't know!" Elizabeth hugs her satchel and the precious cargo within to her chest as Comstock shouts back, the former Lamb and Prophet hurtling out and bolting for the door at the top of the Rolling Hills, "I'm open to suggestions!"

But Elizabeth doesn't have any better ideas to suggest beyond just keep running, or some variation thereof; for all that she learned and read back in her tower, there's little Elizabeth's smarts or charms can do to affect the rampaging, relentless behemoth that hunts them, so very much like her own 'protector' in Columbia. Gamma's no Songbird, but then again, Songbird couldn't follow her everywhere and anywhere, and at least he seemed to generally care for her. Elizabeth wouldn't be surprised if she got caught by Gamma's gunfire, the Big Daddy only tasked with retrieving her in all likelihood.

Scrambling up the grassy hill, Elizabeth expects bullets to start flying any moment now, certain that Gamma's made it to the top of the steps as she and Comstock hurry towards the wood and paper sliding door. But all that sounds are another of the Big Daddy's rumbling groans and its heavy, clunking footsteps, the light coming from Gamma's oval-shaped visor beginning to show on the wall around the exit. "Yellow… it was red before. Why…?"

But Elizabeth hasn't the time to wonder, Comstock whirling about just as the paper door begins to slide open, shouting as he raises his left arm, "Elizabeth, look out!"

A blast of frigid wind and chilling ice flies just over Elizabeth's head, she just barely having dropped to her knees as the Plasmid hurtles past and into the charging Big Daddy. And even as a furious roar is suddenly cut off, Elizabeth is none too happy with nearly catching a blast of Old Man Winter to the face, "Are you insane?! You…!"

"Cuss me out later, just run!"

Despite her irritation with the man, Elizabeth hurriedly climbs to her feet and sprints after Comstock, passing through the open door while grumbling beneath her breath. But on the other side and back at that dirt and grass intersection, yet another problem presents itself; voices coming from the Tree Farm, Elizabeth guessing that they belong to members of Ryan Security.

Stuck between armed guards ahead and a temporarily incapacitated, certainly enraged Gamma, Elizabeth and Comstock need to get out of here _now_ , but where? With both Metros blocked by Ryan's forces, how else can a pair of hunted fugitives escape Arcadia? And to make matters worse, they're practically running blind after this point, unless they decide to risk returning to the Tre Farm and fighting through the waiting security forces.

In the end, Elizabeth just dashes across the intersection, reasoning that running without knowing what lays ahead is like enough to lead them to a dead end. And given the stakes, it's a very apt description of being cornered by Gamma or Ryan's men. "Least there's that canal ahead to hide in, if need be, and I'm sure I saw another door past the Tree Farm…"

But her thoughts are interrupted again by sudden, harsh whooping noises, lasting for only a second but certainly announcing their presence. "The camera… ah, hell!" It must have caught her or Comstock as they ran through, Elizabeth spying the alerted red light on the dirt path of the intersection and kicking herself for forgetting about it. "C'mon, hurry!" She's already onto the wooden planks that make up part of the path to the Tree Farm's entrance and passing the first door to the Waterfall Grotto.

Dashing down the path, the simple jingle of a Gene Bank along the way still playing as they round the turn and slip past the Tree Farm's second entrance, Elizabeth grins as she hears a startled curse coming from within; it sounds as if the guards had tried the other exit after hearing the camera's alarm, their mistake likely granting Elizabeth and Comstock a few extra seconds to make their escape.

When finally they find the sought after door, the sign overhead calling the area beyond the Tea Garden and bearing a glowing, stylized tea pot just beneath the words, Comstock takes the lead with his shotgun raised. But when the sliding door opens as he approaches, they find… nothing. No Splicers making to assault them, no vending machines hawking their wares, and none of Ryan's men awaiting the two of them.

The path here is cobblestone crossing through grass, and it splits as it approaches a wooden balcony towards the back of the room, the offshoots leading to another pair of what Elizabeth's come to think of as typical doors in Arcadia. There are also a pair of paths to either side of where Elizabeth and Comstock stand, but they're dark and narrow, turning off quickly and leaving her feeling leery of them.

"Tea Garden, huh…?" Smaller, simple signs bearing the name are placed just above the entrances, and Elizabeth starts moving towards the right path, "C'mon, Comstock, we should at least be able to hide in there."

"Rather an exit, but it'll do for now." Nodding, Comstock makes sure to keep pace with Elizabeth, "Move aside, no telling what might be waiting for us."

"Sure…" Slowing so she's a step behind her companion, Elizabeth shifts the satchel's strap on her shoulder as Comstock approaches the door, "I don't hear Gamma or Ryan's-"

"Grk!" A grunt comes from Comstock the moment the door opens, all Elizabeth able to make out being a large fist and muscular arm, coming from the other room. And the blow knocks Comstock to the ground, dazed as his attacker steps through; a large, burly man, about as tall as Comstock but far more muscular, his brown hair short and combed while his dark blue outfit reminds her of a sailor's uniform. He kicks Comstock's shotgun away before moving to stand over the fallen man.

And the big man isn't alone; two more are on the other side of the doorway, the first being a balding man, a little shorter than the first and wearing rimless glasses. The second is a woman with long, disheveled auburn hair, looking more than a little nervous. But Elizabeth's gaze returns to the larger man as he reaches for Comstock, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him to his feet; the look on his face is plenty aggressive, and between his temperament and the ease at which he's manhandling Comstock, Elizabeth's certain he's likely the most dangerous of the three. Physically, at least.

Elizabeth takes a careful step back, hoping the sailor's aggression towards Comstock stems from something he'd done during his time as 'Booker'. But a glare from the man stops Elizabeth in her tracks, the balding man stepping up beside the sailor with his bespectacled gaze locked firmly on her.

"You wouldn't happen to be carrying something of Langford's in there, would you?"

"Wh-what?" Blinking, Elizabeth isn't sure if she heard him right; how could anyone know she was carrying something like that? Unless they'd learned of it from Ryan, it shouldn't be possible for this fellow to know about the vials, only that they'd come from Dr. Langford's lab.

"I've someone who has an interest in what you've got there, so…"

"So hand it over, doll!" The sailor roars as he holds Comstock up, "Lutwidge, just take the stuff already!"

"There's no need to be rash, James." The balding man, 'Lutwidge' chuckles as he looks back to 'James', something about him striking Elizabeth as odd. He comes off as more than a little unbalanced, though that doesn't surprise Elizabeth; all three of them look to have spliced, at least a little. "Hand it over, and you have my word that no harm shall come to you, or your… father?"

"He's NOT my father." Elizabeth retorts sharply, her voice sounding icy even to her, "And I'm not giving you anything. It's just food and water!" She makes to back away, but the balding man draws a revolver from behind his back, the implied threat causing Elizabeth to hesitate.

"We know you have it!" The woman peeks her head out from behind the doorway, "Orrin, just take it, we can sort it out later."

"Well… you heard Catherine, lady." Leveling the revolver at Elizabeth, Orrin sighs, "I don't want to kill you, but I will if you don't cooperate. Last chance. Drop the bag."

"Leave her alone… you son of a bitch!"

A flash of light and James suddenly begins to convulse, electricity arcing across his body as Comstock's voice goes from weak and barely audible to a roar, the former Prophet's hand still covered with the obsidian crystals of Shock Jockey. And while Comstock's free, he stumbles back while bringing his arm to bear on Orrin, he still visibly suffering the effects of the sailor's blow.

And that's when chaos erupts; James falls, Orrin brings his revolver around to take aim at Comstock, Catherine screams, and Elizabeth runs for the fallen shotgun. But something else occurs while all this is going on; the entrance to the Tea Garden slides open, the heavy footsteps alerting Elizabeth to just what is behind her.

"T-Tin Daddy! Orrin, James!"

Elizabeth can barely hear Catherine's panicked shout, Gamma letting loose an enraged roar and bathing the rustic room in red light. "Oh no… Comstock!"

The Big Daddy's already charging by the time she gets the words out, but the walking mass of muscle and metal isn't hurtling towards her. Instead, the Alpha series is barreling straight towards Orrin, the balding man scrambling back through the door just as Gamma plows into the stone wall and wooden doorframe. But the sailor's recovered from the effects of Shock Jockey, rising to his feet and backing away from the door while shouting threats at the Big Daddy, placing himself squarely between Elizabeth and the exit.

"Holy…" Shocked by the Big Daddy's actions, Elizabeth has to shake her head to clear the confusion; for whatever reason, it's attacking the trio that'd accosted her, but Elizabeth isn't about to chance waiting for Gamma to finish. So she grabs at Comstock's arm, the man still dazed by the blow to his head, "C'mon… Comstock, get up!"

The way back is blocked, but Gamma's stepped away from the door into the Tea Garden, its Gatling gun beginning to spin up as it brings it to bear on James. "This way… before it notices us, we've got to find a way out!" Comstock doesn't give a word of objection, he and Elizabeth running inside, past a stunned Orrin and frantic Catherine. And that's when Elizabeth spies a way out; a crypt door is wide open, too small for Gamma to follow and likely the way this trio entered Arcadia.

Running through the door and down a roughhewn stone tunnel, Elizabeth glances back as the sounds of battle fade into the distance. Somehow, she doubts this is the last she'll see of those three.

* * *

 **Author's Note: They can never catch a break, can they? Between Ryan, Gamma, the threat of being discovered by Atlas, and the enigmatic Lamb, now they have a trio trying to take what Sofia Lamb has asked of Elizabeth and Comstock. But how did they know Elizabeth was in possession of the genetic modifications? Someone else has designs on the substances? As for Gamma, I felt it fairly obvious why he went after Orrin and James (who are canon characters, as is Catherine, if only minor), given he'd been 'bonded' to Elizabeth in a manner of speaking. But now they're heading down the tunnel and into the Smuggler's Hideout, and while the place could be deserted due to the Civil War and Fontaine's supposed death, it might not, either; if anyone's holed up in there, what's the chances they aren't supporters of Atlas?**

 **I need to give the chapter one or more lookovers when my eyes are fresh and mind awake, so bear with me until then. I also want a better chapter title, so that may change in the near future as well. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter.**

 **Edit, 2/22: So... yeah, life's been throwing me curveballs all month, this week being no exception. I won't be having enough time to do any work for the next few days. As such, I guess the upcoming chapter's going to be put off, probably till Saturday. Sorry for the inconvenience, but hopefully I'll be able to lay the groundwork for the next week's worth of chapters.**


	10. Night In Neptune's

**For new readers, this story is based off of and is tied into several other pieces of mine. If you're not sure where to start, I'd suggest finding Bioshock Infinite: Unbroken, as well as its prequel Unbroken: Song of Sorrow and the continuation Unbroken: I'm Home. The beginning of this story also has roots in chapter five of Those Left Behind. Thanks for checking it out.**

* * *

May 8, 1959

A labored grunt sounds as the stock of a Thompson slams into ice, the frozen chunk cracking but not giving way. So Comstock draws back his weapon again and lashes out, over and over until he's bashed his way through the ice that blocks their way forward. Chill, frigid air wafts through the man-sized hole that he cleared, Comstock heaving a sigh before glancing over at his companion, "Well… maybe that's the worst of it…"

Elizabeth stands several steps back from the hole, the roughhewn, leaking tunnel they'd just come from stretching off into the distance behind her, she just shrugging while rubbing her arms against the cold; they'd had to wade through knee deep water on the way here, and part of her skirt's still damp. She looks a little worse for wear, but all in all, Elizabeth looks to be holding herself together well enough. At least for now, Comstock sparing her one last glance before looking ahead.

Beyond the hole, the next room looks to be a freezer, the floor covered in ice while the walls and ceiling are made of solid concrete. Pipes and shelves run along the walls, and large fish and stalactites hang from the ceiling. And at the far end of the room is a large, metal door with a logo of a skating woman and the words 'Ice Princess', the only way out as far as Comstock can tell. The freezer looks to be abandoned, Comstock taking a careful step through the hole with his Thompson raised. "Let's move."

"Fine by me." Elizabeth quickly steps through after him, slipping around Comstock before heaving a deep, visibly frosted sigh, "So from a cave to a freezer..." They've been in hiding since the mess in Arcadia, and given where they'd gone to ground, Comstock can tell she's more than happy to get out of there.

Elizabeth carries the canvas satchel over her shoulder, though the off-white bag's carrying less in the way of provisions than it had been when they'd fled Arcadia; their supplies have dwindled some, Elizabeth and Comstock having to break into some of the baked beans and water. Cold, of course, neither of them able to find anything half decent to cook with. The shortwave and the vials they'd gotten from Langford are also carried in the satchel, and there hasn't been a single transmission over the radio since their escape, either from Ryan or Lamb.

What Elizabeth and Comstock found beyond the crypt in Arcadia had surprised the both of them; a cave complex that had been turned into some sort of facility, steel plates and grating making up walkways at some points, large brass pipes crossing the rough stone ceiling and the number of flooded areas giving the place a forgotten feel. And the lack of any signs of life only strengthened that sense, the caves being completely abandoned.

But what had been the most surprising find was waiting for them deeper in the caves; a small submarine, floating in a pool with a wooden dock leading to it; a way out, Elizabeth's expression going from one of weariness to cautious optimism, and even Comstock had picked up his pace some. Unfortunately, that hope was dashed shortly after they'd managed to pull the hatch open and climb inside. No matter what they tried, neither of them could power up the submarine, though Comstock did learn of Elizabeth's fascination with bathyspheres as she worked with the controls. Her best guess was that the submarine's engine had been disabled.

Comstock had barred the door from their side and slipped a bar of steel between the handles when they'd first come through the crypt, and so far there hasn't been signs of anyone forcing through. So Comstock figured it best that they lay low, taking time to rest while Ryan's pet can't follow. Elizabeth hadn't so much agreed as simply didn't object, the young woman worn out from their latest ordeal and not in any mood for conversation or argument.

But as the hours went on, it became increasingly obvious to Comstock that Elizabeth was not happy, though he couldn't tell if her displeasure was from their surroundings or their situation as a whole; Ryan, Atlas, Lamb and Gamma, and now the trio that had come after poses another problem altogether. That they knew Elizabeth was carrying Langford's vials is suspicious enough, and Elizabeth wants answers. She only begrudgingly accepted that they needed to stay hidden any longer.

"Ain't a stretch to figure what she's thinking…" Muttering quietly as he steps across the icy floor, Comstock gives Elizabeth a quick glance before looking back ahead; if anyone's behind those three in Arcadia, Comstock would guess that Lamb's as likely a culprit as any. "Can't imagine who else would want this stuff… only question is why… sending those bastards to steal from us when she's already getting it?" It doesn't make much sense, but then again, Comstock's learned that sense and Rapture don't usually go hand in hand these days.

With the meager artificial light down in the caves and no view of the outside world, it was nearly impossible to tell the passage of time past the first couple of hours. All Comstock is sure of is that if they stayed in those caves any longer, he'd be on the wrong side of Elizabeth's temper again, and it doesn't take much for him to draw her ire.

"Best I can tell, we've been hiding in there for a little over a day…"

"Really? Certainly didn't feel like it." Elizabeth speaks up quietly, her voice quiet but sounding plenty troubled. Aside from voicing her displeasure about hiding out in that forgotten cave, Elizabeth had kept to herself for the most part, staying quiet and keeping some distance between the two of them. And Comstock wasn't about to pry, leaving Elizabeth to her thoughts while keeping an eye out for Gamma or any of Ryan's goons.

"Yeah… best be shut of this place soon, last thing we need is you catching cold." That draws a scowl from Elizabeth, she stepping past quickly while Comstock grimaces at the hard look in her eye. "Guess I should've known… least we got some shuteye first…" It wasn't the most restful or comfortable, but sleep is sleep, even if it was on a bunch of wooden crates. "Alright, best get moving."

Elizabeth doesn't wait, the metal door sliding into the floor at her approach, and Comstock follows her through the open doorway with his Thompson held at the ready. But the next room is just as chilly and frozen over as the last, although it is a good deal larger; another of the Ice Princess metal doors stands across the room from where Elizabeth and Comstock stand, a metal stairwell ascends off to the left, and an odd machine with two stylized pistols on either side and a banner reading 'Power to the People!' is placed against an outcropping in the middle of the room's right wall.

"Well… don't mind if I do." Stepping over to the Power to the People machine while casting a cautious glance up the stairwell, Comstock looks it over for a second before grabbing hold on the lip of metal just above the 'Open For Business' sign, giving it a good tug and sliding the curving sheet up and back. It just gets more complicated from there, but in the end, Comstock walks away with an attachment that supposedly makes his Thompson more lethal. He's not sure how a chunk of metal down from the start of the stock to the drum clip and a few glowing, pulsating bits are supposed to cause the weapon to be more dangerous, but Comstock's willing to give it a whirl.

But as Comstock turns, he finds Elizabeth leaning against the cold concrete wall beside the metal stairwell, an absent, lost in thought look in her eye. It doesn't last long, though; Elizabeth looks up quickly as Comstock approaches, although she need a long moment for her gaze to focus on him. "Hmm? Ready?" Comstock nods, and Elizabeth starts up the stairs before he's finished, her heels clacking on the metal steps as she goes.

The next room up is just as rime-coated as the first two, though there's a pool of water directly ahead of the stairs, and the familiar jingles of a Gene Bank and Circus of Values machines come from deeper in the largest room yet. There are four more of the Ice Princess metal doors, but they're all at least partially frozen over or blocked by piles of snow. And after carefully moving through the abandoned freezer, Comstock spies a doorway and gate made up of metal bars, the same sort that they'd passed through when leaving the stairwell. "Must be the exit… but where the hell is everyone?"

"I don't know, but I suppose it's for the best." Elizabeth shrugs as she looks back to Comstock, the two of them passing the Circus of Values vending machine, "Workers seeing us come from inside the freezer and looking as we do, we're bound to draw attention to ourselves."

She's got a point there, Comstock nodding as they leave the frigid room and start down a still icy hallway, though it grows warmer as they go. But it's not until they pass through another pair of doorways and past a Pneumo tube and another Gene Bank that they escape the cold, ending up in a room with a couple conveyor belts on either side.

Taking a look around, Comstock spies a flickering neon sign above the door they'd just passed through, and a groan escapes him; the sign reads 'Fontaine Fisheries', and everything he'd read or heard of the man starts coming back to him. "Well, that explains a lot… Elizabeth, look."

"Oh… suppose that's why there's a tunnel into the back of the freezer…" Frowning, Elizabeth shifts the satchel strap on her shoulder before breathing a quiet sigh, "Wouldn't be any workers in one of Fontaine's businesses after he died, unless Ryan took over…"

"The caves must've been a hideout for the smugglers. Guess we know why the sub wasn't working... with that residency contract of his, I doubt he'd want someone finding a way out of here so easily…" Nodding, Comstock runs a hand through his white hair, "Sure as hell glad the place was abandoned, smugglers ain't exactly the sorts we want to run into. Must mean we're in Neptune's Bounty..."

"So… now what?" Turning to face him, Elizabeth touches the satchel before continuing, "Lamb will be wanting these materials from Dr. Langford… it would be easy enough to contact Lamb and drop the case into the Pneumo tube…"

"Lamb..." Scowling, Comstock shakes his head quickly, "Don't know about you, but I'm not partial to giving that woman a damn thing." Surprisingly, Elizabeth nods without hesitation.

"You're right… we can't trust Lamb. I've known that, but after what happened…" Elizabeth's voice trails off, a far off look appearing in her eyes for a moment before she continues, "Umm… ah, for all we know, Lamb's the one who sent those three after us. We need answers before just… handing these vials over…"

"You got that right. Let's get the hell out of here; never know when we'll have to deal with those crooks again, best get someplace safe before long." Starting down the dimly lit hall and away from Fontaine Fisheries, Comstock glances back to Elizabeth, "I know a place that's not far, a tavern, the Fighting McDonagh's. Went drinking there a few times with Sullivan."

"A tavern? And someplace that Ryan's Head of Security frequents?" The skeptical, incredulous tone in Elizabeth's voice also shows clear in her expression, her pace slowing noticeably, "Are you sure that's a good idea? I'm not sure it is… a tavern doesn't strike me as the best place to keep out of sight…"

"You'd be surprised, Elizabeth. Unless you have a better idea…?" Comstock doesn't know of anywhere else they might go, Neptune's Bounty having little beside businesses and wharfs. Heading to the Rapture Metro and just boarding the bathysphere's another option, but the question of where to would just be delayed until they got on board.

"I… I don't know, alright?" Elizabeth looks away as she crosses her arms, a shudder running through her body, "I just… wish I could see a way out of this. Lamb promised us an escape, but who knows if she'll keep her part of the bargain? If I could still see the doors, this wouldn't be…" Elizabeth doesn't finish, a deep, heavy-hearted sigh escaping her instead.

"It'll be fine, Elizabeth. C'mon." Continuing to the far side of the room and up to a door with a sun surrounded by waves motif, Comstock waits for Elizabeth to join him before stepping close enough for the automatic door to rise, the harbors, wharfs, fisheries and warehouses of Neptune's Bounty awaiting them on the other side. And unlike Fontaine's, the rest of Neptune's Bounty looks to be anything but deserted, "Shouldn't be too hard to get a room there, someplace we can figure out our next move or get some rest."

Elizabeth peers back at him for a second before nodding slowly, letting her arms drop to her side, "… alright, lead the way. I suppose the sooner we get there, the better."

Leading Elizabeth towards the Upper Wharf, Comstock does his best to keep the two of them as inconspicuous as possible. Still, there's enough workers roaming the area that it's impossible to remain entirely unseen, and Comstock notices more than a few glances sent their way, particularly at Elizabeth. And that sets Comstock on edge; no telling which of these fishery and harbor workers might be one of Ryan's men undercover or Atlas' revolutionaries. But then Comstock spies a pair of rough looking men with pins in the shape of blue butterflies on their shirts, both eyeing the two of them and muttering something to each other as they pass. "Perfect… Lamb's sure to know we're here now… dammit…"

Passing through the Upper Wharf and through the glass tunnel that connects Jet Postal and the Fighting McDonagh's tavern to the rest of Neptune's Bounty, Comstock grins as they step through the door; the smell of old beer and cigarette smoke comes from within the tavern, a scent that he's all too familiar with. But a quiet cough comes from his left, Comstock looking over to find Elizabeth bringing up a sleeve as she wrinkles her nose at the smell. "It'll pass, Elizabeth, just give it a minute." The scowl she throws his way draws a chuckle from Comstock, and he steps towards the bar while shaking his head, "Hey, I need a room, pal."

The bartender just nods and produces a key from beneath the bar, Comstock settling the bill with what little cash he has before handing the key to Elizabeth, "Stairs around back, by the restroom. Careful, there's a charge to use the privy… huh…"

Something catches Comstock's eye as he warns Elizabeth, a wry, lopsided grin tugging at his features; a trio of patrons are clustered around one of the barrel tables, cards and cash on the small surface. Poker, it looks like, "Elizabeth, best get some rest… I'll be making up the cost in the meantime." Elizabeth just rolls her eyes at that, taking the offered key and disappearing upstairs.

* * *

10:35 PM

"Room 6… here it is."

The plain white door slides open once Elizabeth turns the lock, though it doesn't do so without protest, and Elizabeth lets loose a quiet groan of her own as she steps inside; the room that Comstock had spent the majority of their funds to rent is sparsely furnished, the only furniture Elizabeth can see from the doorway being a dark, blue-green vinyl couch against the left wall and a standing lamp.

Moving deeper into the room and around the portion of wall that juts out from the right to provide some measure of privacy for what might be further inside, Elizabeth finds her initial impression is just about right; there's only a modestly-sized bed against the wall and just past the couch, as well as a pair of wooden standing shelves to break up the monotony of the reddish-brown walls. There aren't even any sheets on the mattress, only a plain white pillow and blanket resting atop it.

Finally, a green, brown and yellow carpet lays in the middle of the floor, the leafy and flowery pattern pleasing to look at, but it's nowhere near enough to distract from the fact that its resting on old, graying, creaking wooden boards. And the whole room is barely lit by the lamp and a bare lightbulb, directly over the rug and in the middle of the ceiling. Not exactly what she'd grown used to during her time in this underwater city, but Elizabeth has enough on her mind that she just wants to take a rest.

"Somehow, I doubt being resurrected by the Vita-Chamber made Comstock any better of a gambler…" She remembers all too well Booker's history with gambling, and Elizabeth can't imagine that Comstock's any better. "Wouldn't be surprised if we didn't have a dollar to our name by the time he's through… I just hope he has the sense to walk away before it gets to that…"

Mumbling to herself, Elizabeth trudges over to the bed and nearly drops face first onto the mattress, only the thought that Comstock could come through the door at any moment and see her like that letting Elizabeth catch herself long enough to turn and take a seat instead. And the moment she's on the bed, Elizabeth can't help but imagine how much better she'll sleep here than she did back in the smuggler's cave; any mattress at all beats wooden crates. But sleep will have to wait, Elizabeth setting down the satchel beside her.

Fishing the shortwave from the off-white canvas satchel, Elizabeth holds the radio with both hands while staring at the speaker. "I could always just… call Lamb. Confront her about those three…" But even as she considers it, Elizabeth shakes her head, discarding the notion; she just doesn't know enough about Lamb to guess at how she'd react, and unless Elizabeth's willing to withhold the genetic modifications and possibly make an enemy of the doctor, she just can't risk it.

But before Elizabeth can toss the radio aside and fall back onto the inviting bed, the shortwave crackles to life of its own volition, giving Elizabeth a fright and nearly causing her to drop the device entirely. The hiss of static fills her ears while she catches herself and clutches the radio to her chest, Elizabeth cautiously peering down at the shortwave. "Umm… hello?" Elizabeth cuts off her transmission quickly, wincing slightly as she realizes this might've been a mistake; radio transmissions aren't exactly secure, what if that's Ryan on the other end, or worse?

But her fears prove unfounded the moment she hears the other person's voice, a relieved smile spreading across her ruby lips. "You already know the answer to that question, Elizabeth. No need to ask in the first place." It's her own voice coming over the speaker, though after their last conversation, Elizabeth still can't be sure if the Voice is really using the radio or if she's just in her head.

"It's… it's good to hear from you." Still grinning as she says it, Elizabeth runs her fingers through her raven black hair before continuing. "When you say I know the answer… the answer to what?" A quiet scoff comes from the radio, Elizabeth sighing quietly; of course she knows the question, and the Voice must already know that she suspects Lamb's involvement.

"Those three who attacked you, Orrin, James and Catherine. They work for Lamb, the same as the two of you are. Seems she's not one to leave anything to chance, no matter who gets hurt along the way."

"The same as…?" Now Elizabeth's smile disappears, an exasperated groan escaping her in its place, "I would imagine they mean to take Lamb's promised way out… I suppose that means we have competitors now…" Sighing unhappily, Elizabeth glances towards the door for a moment, "… I'm guessing that Dr. Lamb doesn't see a problem with this either, pitting us against those three… this is Rapture, after all. All that 'greater good' business she was spouting must have been lip service."

"Yes… and no, Elizabeth." The Voice's response and the quiet tone of her voice perks up catches Elizabeth's ear, a sense of trepidation beginning to form as she focuses on the radio again, just as the other 'her' speaks up again, "Sofia Lamb is certainly not a typical denizen of Rapture. While she is intelligent and single-mindedly ruthless, she's also entirely devoted to her beliefs. Beliefs that run contrary to Ryan's and what he built Rapture for. She just lacks any qualms at all in pursuing her goals... in a manner of speaking, she no different than Comstock in that regard."

"Heh…" Listening to the Voice talk, the strangest thought occurs to Elizabeth, and she couldn't help but chuckle at the notion as the other 'her' continued. And that seems to put off the Voice, her tone growing a touch worried. "Oh… sorry, I just came to a realization of sorts… that you're the only person I can really talk to… and you likely don't even exist!" For some reason, the absurd thought is almost enough to make her cry, a hint of tears gathering at the corner of Elizabeth's eyes.

And the Voice doesn't respond immediately, allowing Elizabeth a moment to compose herself some as she brushes away the tears. "Elizabeth…"

"Who in this entire sunken, insane city can I confide in? Comstock?!" Frustration begins to creep into Elizabeth's voice, the feeling of helplessness and insecurity that's been building and bottled up within her since escaping Hephaestus finding release, "Not very well likely. I haven't been able to talk to anyone like this, not since…" Her voice trails off, Elizabeth breathing a dejected sigh as she thinks back to a certain fiery redhead who'd briefly travelled with her and Comstock.

"Elizabeth… I'm not really…" The Voice falls silent after a moment, returning after a moment and sounding significantly more sure of herself, "You'll get through this. You're stronger than you give yourself credit for; you survived Columbia, even with the odds stacked so heavily against you and Booker…"

"That wasn't _me_!" Elizabeth grits her teeth as a flash of anger surges through her, "I remember all of it… but that wasn't really me; that was the other Elizabeth! The real Elizabeth, the one Booker came for and brought home… I'm just a… just a genetic duplicate." Despite the cooling anger and sense of frustrating helplessness, Elizabeth manages a dry, humorless laugh, "I'm a fake… fitting, I suppose, a fake Elizabeth to go with a fake Booker…"

"That's not true…" The Voice is quiet now, sounding almost apologetic as she speaks, "You might be her copy, but that doesn't make you any less real…"

Eyeing the radio, Elizabeth shakes her head slowly as she sniffles, fresh tears threatening to roll down her cheeks, "Thank you for saying that, but… it's the truth. I… we, the real Elizabeth and I had hoped to find Booker once our business in Rapture was finished, but… but I can't go home, not anymore…" It feels as if she's pouring her heart out to herself, the Voice likely just a part of her damaged psyche or a delusion entirely.

"If this is just some cosmic joke, then the universe really does have a sense of humor… and it's a terrible one, at that." Finishing with a dejected sigh, Elizabeth wipes at her teary eyes, not wanting to look as if she's been crying should Comstock decide to come through that door now.

The silence stretches on, and Elizabeth can't be certain if the Voice has disappeared on her or not, but she doesn't have the strength to say any more. But after a minute, the radio crackles again, the Voice solemn and quiet; seems that at the very least, the other Elizabeth isn't about to abandon her, "Elizabeth… I'm not really here, but… I know that the… 'real' Elizabeth would have faith in you. That Booker would too, and they'd be proud of you. You know that, as well as I." Elizabeth just stares at the radio, more than a little surprised at the Voice's words; that's a hell of a lot more faith than she has in herself. Just what does this other Elizabeth know, or what is it that's buried in her mind that she just can't remember?

"But… Elizabeth, you don't have time for this."

"Huh?" Blinking, Elizabeth's alert in a flash, her gaze turning to where the door is, "What…?"

"Trouble." A crash comes from outside, likely from down in the tavern, "Like that."

"What's happening?" Climbing to her feet, Elizabeth holds the radio and pulls the satchel's strap over her shoulder, "Is it… is it the Big…?"

"No. You and Comstock drew some unwanted attention on your way here; four of Atlas' thugs are coming." Elizabeth can hear the distaste in the other's voice as she says the name 'Atlas', "They're looking for Comstock, heard tell that Atlas had a score to settle with 'DeWitt'. They haven't told anyone else yet, but if they get away…"

"Then Atlas will be coming after us with everything he's got…" Her voice is hushed as she finishes, Elizabeth's eyes growing wide, "Then… then what do I have to…?"

"Break into room 5, you'll find something useful in there… but after that, you'll be presented with a choice; save Comstock by killing, or help and trust him to save you." The Voice is quiet again, the other Elizabeth sounding unhappy about the choices.

"I'll… I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. Room 5, right?"

"Yes." The Voice answers quickly, Elizabeth heading out the door as quickly as she can, "And… good luck, Elizabeth." Elizabeth silently thanks the Voice for that, though she's all alone again.

Room 5 isn't hard to find, nor is it hard to pick, Elizabeth using a hairpin to pop the lock and slip inside. What she finds there, though, surprises her; it looks to have been turned into a sort of evidence room, papers, boxes and reels of film filling the room.

But what stands out most is tucked away in a corner of the room, out of the way but in plain sight; a small revolver and a glowing red bottle with a hypo stabbed into it. And Elizabeth blanches at the sight of the needle, painful memories coming back to her in an instant. "Well… I suppose there's no time to waste…" Picking up the revolver and tucking it into the waist of her skirt, Elizabeth hesitantly fills the hypo with the glowing red Plasmid and pulls it from the bottle. The moment she spies the sharp point of the needle, Elizabeth's hesitation turns into full on anxiety, the memory of that spike that had been shoved into her spine in Comstock House coming to her in full, vivid detail.

It takes the sound of grunts and another crash coming from outside to spur Elizabeth on, she putting the needle to her wrist, closing her eyes and pushes it in while depressing the plunger. The pain from the needle is like a white hot sliver, but what comes after is far, far worse; her skin begins to feel like it's on fire, only for Elizabeth to open her eyes to see patches of her hands and arms glowing red and orange. It's all she can do to suppress a scream as the Plasmid rewrites her genetic code, and when it's all over, Elizabeth collapses against the wall, panting.

The sounds of fighting don't give her time to rest, however, and Elizabeth weakly pushes herself to her feet. "Guess I've got to save my would-be protector…" Stumbling out of the room and towards the stairs, Elizabeth catches herself on the banister that's halfway down the corridor and overlooking the bar, "Well, speak of the devil…"

Comstock's below, fighting the four thugs the Voice had mentioned, and it isn't looking good; he doesn't have his Thompson or shotgun on him, and they've got him backed up against the wall. Broken furniture's scattered all around. And that's when Elizabeth makes her choice, holding up her hand and snapping her fingers, the wooden beam above the attackers' heads bursts into flames. "Hey!"

"Get the broad!" One of the thugs shouts as he swings at Comstock, and two of the others break off to come charging up the stairs. But that's where Elizabeth's hastily made plan falls apart; they're much faster than she expected, and by the two disfigured Splicers are already up the stairs by the time she's drawn her revolver. And to make matters worse, they're also armed, Elizabeth snapping off a shot while running back into the makeshift evidence room.

What comes next is a blur; exchanging gunfire, Elizabeth quickly runs out of ammo, and Atlas' goons come rushing into the room after her. She only manages an escape by pushing over a pile of newspapers and film reels onto one of them, but the last thug is hot on her heels as she sprints out of the room and towards the stairs. And as she approaches the railing above the bar again, that's when she sees Comstock come barreling up the stairs, just as the thug grabs her by the shoulder. But between his grabbing her and their momentum, Elizabeth and the Splicer end up pitching over the railing, time seeming to slow as she falls and Comstock futilely reaches for her. A broken chair leg awaits them on the floor below, Elizabeth's life beginning to flash before her eyes.

But it doesn't turn out to be so futile; the Splicer's thrashing caught on the railing for a moment, arresting their fall for a second, and Elizabeth feels a strong, vicelike grip on her leg. Comstock, Elizabeth dangling from his grip as the Splicer's impaled on the broken chair leg. "Thanks…" Upside-down and being held by one leg, Elizabeth can't help but blush as she realizes how ridiculous she must look right now.

"Don't mention it." Comstock grunts, pressed up against the railing as he struggles to pull her back up, "Let's just… grab our things and get the hell out of here." Elizabeth's blush deepens as Comstock pulls her up a little more and hooks his free arm around her other leg, she keeping a hand pressed against her skirt to keep it in place, "Once I've dealt with the last fella… got some winnings on the table, get us something to eat once we're shut of this place."

"S-Sure thing…" Right now, almost anywhere else would be preferable to Elizabeth.

* * *

 **Author's Note: So they're back among the living, with all the dangers that entails, but at least Elizabeth isn't entirely helpless anymore. For the record, she has the Incinerate! Plasmid and a basic revolver, not too powerful but better than nothing. Not a lot else to say about this chapter, although, just how mortified do you think Elizabeth would be, hanging upside-down from the tavern's second floor?**

 **As usual, I need to give this another look over for any issues I might've missed, but I'll get to that when my eyes are fresh. Feel free to let me know if you catch something that I miss, or if you have anything to point out about the chapter. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter.**


	11. Sculpted Ivy, Stone Flowers

**For new readers, this story is based off of and is tied into several other pieces of mine. If you're not sure where to start, I'd suggest finding Bioshock Infinite: Unbroken, as well as its prequel Unbroken: Song of Sorrow and the continuation Unbroken: I'm Home. The beginning of this story also has roots in chapter five of Those Left Behind. Thanks for checking it out.**

 **Foreword: A shorter chapter than usual, but that's just how it worked out. Has anyone noticed there seems to be no way to get out of High and Market Street?**

* * *

May 9, 1959, 10:00 AM

"Back to where this all began, in a manner of speaking…"

Elizabeth whispers to herself as the bathysphere glides through the frigid depths around Rapture, she resting on the rosewood and metal bench that curves along the port side of the vessel's interior and peering out the glass hatch at the shining city in the sea. The plain white canvas satchel rests beside her on the hard surface, Elizabeth hoping to relax and enjoy the ride; her amateur enthusiasm for bathyspheres hasn't diminished any, though Elizabeth has frequently been too preoccupied or exhausted to enjoy most of the trips she's taken on the submersible's as of late. Comstock's standing on the opposite side of the bathysphere, one arm resting against the metal hull beside the hatch as he stares out into the ocean.

But the bathysphere is far from peacefully silent; the shortwave radio rests on Elizabeth's lap, the occasional hiss of static coming from the speaker whenever the calm, measured voice on the other end isn't speaking. "Ms. DeWitt. I trust you and your companion are well rested, and are prepared to continue with our agreement?"

"Yes, I suppose we are." Heaving a sigh, Elizabeth reluctantly turns her attention to the radio. Their employer had contacted them as they entered the Metro Station at Neptune's Bounty, Elizabeth nearly jumping in surprise at the sudden voice at her side and Comstock whirling around with his shotgun raised; their journey to the bathysphere station had been a tense, nail-biting experience after being attacked by Atlas' spliced up thugs. But the psychologist had simply inquired about their cargo and directed them to another safe house, despite the incident with the trio in Arcadia hanging over their heads.

While Elizabeth already had an idea of who those three are and knew better than to broach the subject for the time being, Comstock had been set on confronting Lamb. He'd started angrily demanding an explanation, Elizabeth only barely switching the shortwave off before Comstock could get started in earnest.

A hasty explanation while hurrying into the bathysphere only half convinced the former Prophet that this wasn't the time or place to force Lamb's hand, Comstock only begrudgingly acknowledging that it was unwise once the glass hatch sealed behind them. With that settled, Elizabeth switched the radio back on and focused on the conversation with Lamb, not wanting to give too much away.

Thankfully, Lamb didn't bring up the attackers of Arcadia either, both she and Elizabeth avoiding the subject. Instead, the doctor had been rather direct with her questions, turning the no-nonsense conversation quickly to business and what Elizabeth and Comstock carried away from Arcadia, the genetic samples that had been in Julie Langford's care safely tucked away in her satchel. Lamb had been pleased with their acquisition of the materials, though Elizabeth wouldn't have guessed from the sound of the good doctor's voice, she simply stating it with that same measured tone she always uses.

While Lamb was dubiously pleased that they'd managed to escape Arcadia with the genetic materials, the doctor was less so with their 'seeming' reluctance to deliver them. Any one of the Pneumo tubes Elizabeth and Comstock had passed by would have served passing well to send the small, rectangular metal case and the samples within to safety. Comstock bristled at that, the act of holding his tongue seeming to grow more and more difficult.

In the end, Elizabeth agreed to deliver the genetic materials at the earliest convenience, though she'd arranged for some supplies to help them on their way in return, and the pair had been directed to another safe house. Thankfully, this one was located in a middle-class residential area rather than a red-light district. Lamb had cut off contact while the bathysphere was still in transit, only leaving them with their next destination; the Little Wonders Educational Facility on Market Street.

Their employer wasn't exactly certain whether the objects she seeks is in the facility or not, but the Market Street facility is a damn sight easier to reach than the one in Point Prometheus, Lamb telling Elizabeth the names of a number of complicated compounds to search for. So they're on their way back to Comstock's old neighborhood, while he still deluded himself into thinking he was Booker DeWitt and where he'd lived since 1949.

"The facility is certain to be guarded." Lamb drawls over the shortwave in her distinctly emotionless manner of speech, "But I've come to learn how… resourceful, the two of you are. I trust you will be able to provide your own method of entrance."

"I suppose we'll have to, one way or the other…" Turning her gaze back to the sight of Rapture through the bathysphere's thick glass hatch, Elizabeth frowns slightly; she's not so sure of that, but best not let on that she has any doubts. The Little Wonders facility is controlled directly by Ryan and is at least partly involved in the creation of Little Sisters, it's not great stretch of the imagination to figure that whatever guards are outside will be the least of their problems.

The bathysphere begins to approach one of the towering buildings that make up Rapture, the vessel diving towards the ocean floor on a preprogrammed route. "Very well. I look forward to next we speak, Ms. DeWitt. Do be prompt, if at all possible."

With that, the shortwave radio cuts out, Lamb's voice disappearing as abruptly as it came. "Prompt… that's helpful, Lamb." Rolling her eyes, Elizabeth stuffs the radio back into her satchel, just as their vessel glides into the buildings dock, cutting off the view of the city and plunging the bathysphere into near darkness. Only the dim, orange overhead light illuminates Elizabeth and Comstock.

Their passage through the inky darkness doesn't take long, but it's enough that Elizabeth can't help but squint as the bathysphere surfaces, the meager light that had been filtering through the water around the submersible while it began to ascend only allowing her eyes to adjust slightly before being dazzled. And once her vision clears, Elizabeth finds she's staring at another Rapture Metro, this one more circular and looking much like Market and High Street above in design; there's no view of the ocean or the rest of the city, but the floor's the same white marble tile and the walls and ceiling a warm brown color. A number of slot machines stand near wood and vinyl benches, likely something for those waiting on bathyspheres to occupy themselves with and lose their money on. A single elevator is set into the wall opposite where the bathysphere rose out of the sea.

And there are a handful of men and women in the Metro, several of the nearest picking themselves up and starting towards where Elizabeth and Comstock stand. "Best get moving. C'mon." Keeping his voice low, Comstock steps out of the bathysphere and starts walking towards the elevator.

"Sure…" Following a half step behind her companion, Elizabeth keeps her head down as they go, hoping not to be recognized; she'd made a scene with a few of the shop owners on High Street last she was here, but the one she hopes to avoid most is also the most dangerous by far, her former 'mentor'. "We'll need to steer clear of Cohen's, if he's still here… last thing we need is to pique his curiosity."

"Wont' hear any argument from me." From the tone of his voice, it's clear to Elizabeth that Comstock remembers how their last encounter with Cohen ended, and likely quite vividly. "I've half a mind to put a bullet in the lunatic." Elizabeth can only grimace, the pair stepping into the elevator just as the bathysphere descends into the depths once again; the 'maestro' is a horrible man, and it's best to avoid him if at all possible.

The elevator car is the same cylindrical design as the one Elizabeth took with Comstock on New Year's Eve, but it lacks the back window and view of the city that the Market and High Street one had, though it does bear a panel allowing access to several different floors. Moving to lean against the back wall, Elizabeth peers at the panel as Comstock hits the button for the top floor; it does bring to mind the single-button panel on the elevator further upstairs, "An odd choice…" Thinking to herself, Elizabeth brushes a stray hair from her eyes, the elevator beginning its ascent, "I suppose whoever designed those might fancy having the elevator stopping at every floor…"

"First few floors are for maintenance, shouldn't be a problem."

"I don't imagine we'll have much to worry about, not until we're on Market Street." Briefly glancing over at Comstock, Elizabeth wonders whether her statement's true or not; her companion has both his shotgun and Thompson slung on his back. While the civil war has made carrying firearms more common, Elizabeth can't help but feel that even a casual observer would think Comstock's up to no good, armed as he is. Of course, they are planning something, but that's beside the point.

Letting her eyes unfocus while staring unseeingly at the elevator door, Elizabeth barely notices the floors come and go, her thoughts occupied with what they may find when they arrive and just how they're going to break into what's essentially a guarded government facility. And she's so lost in thought that she doesn't realize it when they arrive, a tap on the shoulder shaking her from her musings, "Huh?" Blinking, Elizabeth finds the elevator door open and Comstock giving her a curious look, a touch of warmth flushing her cheeks as she realizes she hadn't been paying attention, "Err… ah, hell…" Comstock chuckles as she slips past him, Elizabeth hurrying out of the elevator.

The elevator stopped at what could be considered the building's entry hall; a handful of shops and restaurants occupy this floor, but the majority of it is taken up by advertisements for the destinations above, decorative, leafy plants in dark fixtures, similarly dark sculptures, benches and slot machines contrasting with the white marble tile floor. And there are a half dozen more elevators aside from the one Elizabeth just left along the dark and light brown walls, each leading to a different set of the building's upper floors.

But this place of commerce has seen better days, the effects of the Civil War apparent even this far from the fighting and areas of unrest. Half of the businesses are boarded up and dark, the number of Rapture's well-to-do citizens shopping or going about their day far less than when Elizabeth last passed through here.

The elevator to Market and High Street lies on the far side of the hall, and Elizabeth starts across the floor without a moment of hesitation, her heels clacking on the white tile; no point in trying to keep out of sight, the open layout of the floor making that an exercise in futility, and Elizabeth doesn't much care to linger in this place for fear of being recognized.

"You alright?" Comstock's voice is low and quiet, the former Prophet just behind and to her left.

"I suppose… as well as can be expected." Glancing back at her companion, Elizabeth peers at Comstock suspiciously for a moment; she still doesn't know what to make of this Comstock. Then again, all Elizabeth has is uncertainty, so why should this be any different? "Let's just get to Market Street." Comstock nods slowly, and Elizabeth presses the elevator's call button, breathing a sigh and running her fingers through her dyed black hair as she waits. "Huh… I wonder how long it will be before it starts to show…?"

The elevator arrives quickly enough, and Elizabeth and Comstock are on their way to Market Street in short order, she spending the time staring out the window at the ocean again. When the elevator reaches their floor, Elizabeth's paying enough attention this time to turn as the door slides open, and that proves fortunate; what waits outside nearly draws a curse from her ruby lips, Elizabeth suddenly relieved that she wasn't startled by this.

A barricade waits just outside the elevator, a number of Ryan's security standing on the far side with weapons in hand. There is an opening in the barricade, a small line of men and women waiting to get through as the guards inspect the first. "Well… I ain't getting through there…"

"Doubt I can, either." Frowning, Elizabeth slips over to the side of the elevator in an attempt to remain unseen, across the door from Comstock, "Let's head up to High Street. Who knows, we might come up with a plan while we're up there."

Comstock doesn't need to be told twice, the door closing a moment later and the elevator beginning its ascent once again. And neither of them say another word over the short time it takes for the elevator to reach High Street, their job suddenly looking just that much worse.

"Refreshments, sir? Madam?"

"What? No… we're fine." Elizabeth blinks as Comstock answers, both of them glancing at each other for a moment; the moment the elevator doors opened, the spliced waiter that had greeted them last time did so again. Only this time, the waiter looks to be even more spliced than before, a touch of odd swelling on the right side of his face an obvious sign. But the wait doesn't seem too far gone to be called a proper Splicer, he just nodding and vanishing in a burst of red smoke only to appear again some distance away.

Just as with Market Street and the entrance hall, the Les Temps Perdu lounge shows signs of the strain the civil war has put on Rapture, there being less patrons than she remembers, the clamor of the crowd outside more of a murmur, and the shelves behind the bar looking more than a little sparse. "Well, here we are again…"

"Mr. DeWitt? Is that you?" A voice comes from their right as they make their way through the lounge, interrupting Elizabeth.

"Ah, hell…" Comstock groans, glancing at Elizabeth before turning to face the speaker and muttering so that she can hear, "It's that shopkeeper from the liquor store… guess he can't afford to keep turning his nose up…"

Elizabeth remembers, and she spies a man stepping out of the Le Marquis D'epoque, "I'd imagine you brought him a lot of business before…" She falters at that, the memories of what came to pass on New Year's Eve and how cold she'd been causing Elizabeth to wince.

"It's been months since you up and disappeared! What, are you on the wagon? Come, I've still a couple bottles of favorite, though…" The shopkeeper stops at the top of the rosewood-colored steps, a glint appearing in his eye, "Though… most of the establishments here no longer take dollars in payment anymore. Not worth the paper it's printed on, except for renting a room, or for the vending machines."

That piques Elizabeth's curiosity, and she takes a step closer, "If you can't use money, then what form of currency is accepted?"

"Why, ADAM, of course!" The shopkeeper's cheerful demeanor doesn't falter in the least, though he seems to have only just now noticed Elizabeth. But from the way the blonde man said ADAM, Elizabeth thinks she can sense a touch of desperation in his manner. "You… do have ADAM, yes?"

"Not a drop, pal." Comstock shakes his head and starts walking away, Elizabeth turning to follow. The shopkeeper doesn't say a word, Elizabeth watching him slowly trudge back to his shop from the corner of her eye. "ADAM… the city's going to hell if the Rapture dollar ain't worth a thing…"

"Yeah… best we avoid the shops for now… but that doesn't leave us much to do other than gamble or watch the ocean. Perhaps we should ask around some?" But Comstock just shakes his head, Elizabeth not particularly fond of the idea, herself.

"Let's take a look around, I'd wager we'll find something of use in a place like this."

* * *

Half an hour later…

A sigh escapes Elizabeth as she takes a seat on the black, vinyl upholstered bench outside the Golden Rule. Comstock had suggested they split up to search High Street, and Elizabeth had been all for it, thinking she could use some time to think alone. But all she'd found as she looked around were a closed clothing store and some spare change lying around, and Elizabeth has been giving the Artist's Struggle, Rapture Records and the Golden Rule a wide berth, at least up until now. "I'm not looking forward to this, but… I suppose there might be something we can use in the back, perhaps a rope…"

Elizabeth distinctly remembers falsely accusing the shopkeeper of the Golden Rule of grave robbing before giving him a swift kick, and she's positive the fellow will remember her, looking exactly as she did back on New Year's Eve. "Comstock's drawing plenty of attention with his carrying firearms, but at least no one has called for security yet…"

Closing her eyes, Elizabeth allows herself to rest for a minute, rubbing her face with her hands once its passed. "Alright… suppose I best get to it. Hopefully…"

But Elizabeth doesn't get far with that sentiment, she spying a familiar face coming towards her. Comstock's casting his gaze about as he comes down the wooden steps that lead the Golden Rule, only turning to Elizabeth as he comes to a stop before her, "Found anything?"

"Not yet." Frowning, Elizabeth glances back at the jewelry store behind her, "I was just about to see if I could search in there without causing another scene…"

That draws a blank look from Comstock, but it doesn't last, a lopsided grin slowly replacing it, "Heh… I'd forgotten about that. Well, don't, I think I've got something. C'mon." Comstock steps away and heads for the hallway to the right of the Golden Rule, "Been looking for you for a while."

"If you came from here, how did you miss me…?" Elizabeth tries to remember what lies down this hallway, and after a moment she recalls a restaurant whose name escapes her, and a maintenance room locked with a four-digit code. "As I recall, there isn't a way out down here…"

But Comstock doesn't say a thing, instead coming up to the double doors with the maintenance sign overhead and quickly punching in the code, 2-0-7-6. The doors open without complaint, Comstock stepping through and waiting for Elizabeth to do the same, clearing the code so none can follow. And it's readily apparent what he means to show Elizabeth; a ragged hole has been torn into the floor at the very end of the room, out of sight from outside the door. A ladder has been bolted to the side of the circular hole. "It'll take us to a room in the Andalusian Arms. Ready to do some climbing?"

Elizabeth nods, but gives Comstock a sideways glance, "Okay… but I'm going first."

* * *

 **Author's Note: Yep, Market Street's closed off and someone dug (or drilled) a tunnel from High Street. Like I mentioned above, after wandering around High and Market Street for a while, to refresh my memory of the area, I realized there wasn't anyway to get out the area, no Metro, bathysphere station or doors that could lead out into a tunnel or the like. There are only four locked, unused doors on Market Street, and those all belong to businesses; from the elevator, the Souvenir shop, the Little Wonders Educational Facility, the Satyr, and Rapture Tribune. Not exactly prime avenues for foot traffic.**

 **The chapter's title came easily for once, a poem I ran across striking me as appropriate given the setting and where Elizabeth and Comstock are headed. It's part of a line from an Edge Allan Poe piece, and is sort of a play on Rapture itself, and the Little Sisters.**

 **The chapter should be fairly well looked over, but I'll give it another once over at a later date. As usual, I welcome and feedback in whatever form it may be. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter.**


	12. What Horrors Wonders Hide

**For new readers, this story is based off of and is tied into several other pieces of mine. If you're not sure where to start, I'd suggest finding Bioshock Infinite: Unbroken, as well as its prequel Unbroken: Song of Sorrow and the continuation Unbroken: I'm Home. The beginning of this story also has roots in chapter five of Those Left Behind. Thanks for checking it out.**

* * *

11:10 AM

"Ugh…"

A grimace twists Elizabeth's features as she steps off the ladder, stumbling back a couple of steps despite having both feet firmly on the carpeted floor before letting go of the narrow metal rungs. She'd thought the tunnel leading down to Market Street a lucky break when Comstock first brought her to it, but after several minutes of climbing down at an agonizingly slow pace, Elizabeth wasn't so sure anymore. And that's before considering the satchel hanging from her shoulder.

The tunnel is almost entirely dark, the meager light coming from the maintenance room they left and their destination below not helping in the slightest. "I suppose I should be grateful that it comes down at an angle…" Breathing a quiet, weary sigh while massaging her hands, Elizabeth peers up at the ladder and the hole in the ceiling it disappears into, "At least that afforded a short rest…" Whoever excavated this tunnel through solid concrete hadn't done so haphazardly; the burrowing had to have been carefully planned to avoid any pipes and come out into the bedroom of the Andalusian Arms apartment she now stands, instead of opening up into thin air or the frigid ocean.

But right now, all Elizabeth can focus on is that she's grateful to be back on solid ground, such as it is. After that climb, her delicate hands are sore and cramping, her arms and shoulders feeling leaden, not to mention Elizabeth's feet.

The sound of Comstock climbing down the ladder reaches her as she stretches, and Elizabeth wearily takes a seat on the nearby bed as his footfalls grow steadily closer, kicking off her heels while she waits and looking about the bedroom. The place is decorated about as Elizabeth would expect of a penthouse in an upper class residential complex, but she notices small signs that the apartment may not have been lived in for some time; dead, wilting flowers rest in a pair of white and blue vases, and there's a layer of dust coating most of the bedroom's furniture.

"Wonder what's the cause of this neglect..." Muttering to herself, Elizabeth briefly considers falling back onto the bed before discarding the notion, choosing instead to lean back and prop herself up with her arms, "It could be the war, the security on Market Street… I suppose you might have something to do with this, too…" Elizabeth peers up at the hole in the ceiling again as she finishes, shaking her head slowly as she finds herself talking to it. "What am I thinking? Doesn't much matter, and whoever lived here has likely moved…"

"Oof." Comstock appears form the tunnel as Elizabeth muses, climbing down and dropping off ladder with a grunt. "Won't be easy getting back up there…" That's no small understatement, and Elizabeth shakes her head slowly while slipping her heels back on.

"That's plain to see." Cocking an eyebrow at her companion, Elizabeth picks herself up with a sigh, "I don't suppose you've got some 'miracle' up your sleeve for getting us past the guards at the Little Wonders?"

"Made a city fly, didn't I?" He holds his hands up quickly before Elizabeth can snap back at him, Comstock flashing a lopsided grin at the annoyed look she shoots back, "Just a joke. C'mon, let's keep moving."

Following Comstock out of the bedroom and through the abandoned apartment, Elizabeth takes a moment to look at her surroundings as her companion cautiously approaches the exit. "The television's missing… maybe whoever lived here saw fit to bring it along…" Wondering aloud, Elizabeth sighs softly; the apartment isn't damaged enough for what Elizabeth has come to associate with looting, the décor typical of Market Street undisturbed aside from the conspicuously empty spot where the television should be. "Why haven't they boarded up this apartment?"

"Who cares?" Interrupting her train of thought, Comstock waves Elizabeth forward while stepping outside, "Folks around here mind their own business, and know when to keep quiet. Hell, wouldn't surprise me one bit if the owner's keeping this quiet, least until there's a profit to be made."

"Or until they need a discreet escape route." Adding quietly, Elizabeth follows Comstock out of the apartment, the hallway beyond having the same abandoned feel about it. There's another apartment opposite the one they came from and offset a few feet to the right, the hallway curving out of sight beyond that, and Elizabeth spies two sets of elevators to their left at the end of the hall.

"Guess taking the stairs is out of question." Elizabeth shoots Comstock an annoyed glance this time, her companion shrugging slightly as she starts for the elevators; who knows where the stairs are, and they're at least ten stories above Market Street, Elizabeth not fancying another long climb. "Hey, fine by me."

The elevator takes a couple minutes to arrive, Elizabeth and Comstock passing the time in silence and boarding the car once it arrives in the same manner. But when Elizabeth presses the ground floor button, she can't help but sigh as the elevator lurches and begins a slow descent, "I suppose whoever built the Andalusian Arms chose to cut some corners with the elevators…" Muttering, Elizabeth rests her eyes in the palm of her hand, breathing another small, exasperated sigh.

It takes a few minutes to reach the ground floor, another 'ding' sounding before the doors slide open, the light from the Andalusian Arms' lobby spilling into the dimly lit elevator car and dazzling Elizabeth for a moment. The upper lobby looks much the same as the entryway she and Comstock stopped by on New Year's Eve, and contrary to what the state of the top floor would suggest, the upper class residential complex is still in business; a number of men and women lounge on creamy white arm chairs or lean against the dark brown, paneled walls. "It's midday…" Peering out the elevator cautiously, Elizabeth mutters softly to herself, "Shouldn't more of these people be working?"

None of the folks here seeming to have been affected by the civil war or Rapture's collapsing economy. But it's plain to Elizabeth that everything isn't business as usual, "Ryan Security…" Counting three uniformed men, Elizabeth whispers as she steps out of the elevator, Comstock right behind her. "I should have guessed some of them would spend their time here…" But Elizabeth and Comstock can't just turn back now; lingering in the elevator's sure to draw attention, and Ryan's men are busy chatting it up with some of the Arms' residents.

"Just act casual, Elizabeth. Follow my lead." Comstock starts through the lobby while shifting his weapons so they hang against his side, Elizabeth following close behind as the former Prophet keeps to the left. He's far enough from Ryan's men to keep from being easily made, but not so much as to be obvious about it, or so Elizabeth hopes.

There are several offices on either side of the lobby and a hallway leading to the ground floor apartments on the right, but Elizabeth's too busy keeping her head down to pay them much attention. However, Comstock slows as they approach one in particular, "Ah, hell…"

"What?" Peering past Comstock, Elizabeth spies some lettering on a frosted glass door, "House Detective…? Oh…" Glancing back at Comstock, Elizabeth feels a lopsided grin tugging at the corner of her lips, "So… what happened between you and the house dick?"

"You don't want to know. C'mon, let's get the hell out of here." Comstock picks up his pace, passing the door quickly and making for the spiraling staircase. And Elizabeth chuckles softly before following, shaking her head slowly.

Blowing past the doorman and receptionist, Elizabeth and Comstock only stop at the exit, both of them knowing what likely waits on the other side; the Andalusian Arms is situated near the Market Street elevator, and they'll be coming out right behind the security checkpoint. "I'll go out first, Elizabeth. Start down the street while I keep you out of sight."

Nodding, Elizabeth steps back while Comstock slowly pushes through the exit. She can see him glance towards the elevator before turning back to her, and Elizabeth cocks an eyebrow as he holds the door open for her. "Now that… that's what I call irony…" Stepping out of the Andalusian Arms as she thinks to herself, Elizabeth gives Comstock a sideways look before starting down Market Street.

Security doesn't give them a second look, Elizabeth and Comstock moving unopposed through Market Street and past Jet Postal. There are few people on the street despite it being the middle of the day, and the few they pass don't give the armed Comstock more than a moment's glance. But as they draw closer to the Little Wonders Educational Facility, Elizabeth notices Comstock's demeanor growing steadily worse. "Thinking about Sally, no doubt…"

"Elizabeth. Hold these, and give me your gun." Comstock unslings his shotgun and Thompson as they approach the facility, handing them to Elizabeth as she hesitantly takes her small revolver out and snatching the gun from her grip. "Wait here. I'll be a minute." He's already headed for the opaque pair of double doors before Elizabeth can object, and she can see Comstock palming an old Bowie knife as the Little Wonders' theme song begins to play.

There's no guard outside the building this time, but Elizabeth can't imagine Ryan leaving this place unguarded, not with how precious ADAM has become. And she's not about to just wait, Elizabeth hurrying towards the doors the moment Comstock slips inside, shifting the shotgun and Thompson so they're slung over her right shoulder and opposite the satchel, "I must look comical, carrying all this… guh?!"

Something slams into the door just as she reaches for it, Elizabeth's eyes growing wide; a scream comes from within, far more muffled than she'd expect from a simple door, and something splashes within. Whatever's happening inside doesn't last long, though, everything falling silent before Elizabeth reaches for the door again. "Oh no… Comstock?"

Hesitantly pulling the door open, Elizabeth pauses as a man in the uniform of Ryan Security slides to the ground face first at her feet, Comstock's knife buried in his back, "Oh my God…"

"I said I'd be a minute." Comstock suddenly appears in the doorway, a grim look on his face as he bends down, grabbing the dead man by his ankles and pulling him back inside, "C'mon, can't let anyone see this, or we'll have Ryan's men breathing down our necks."

"Okay…" Swallowing hard, Elizabeth steps inside as Comstock drags the corpse away; she's seen violence like this before at Booker's hand, but it still affects her to witness it again. And as it turns out, the dead guard was but one of three, Elizabeth finding the source of the splashing sound and the scream she'd heard. Whatever Comstock did, it was quick, savage and brutal, and the bodies reflect that. The brightly lit entry room has the feel of a medical or scientific laboratory, the white tile floor and walls nothing like the playfully colored sign and oversized nutcracker soldiers that decorate the exterior. Plain double doors at the back of the room leads further into the facility. "Comstock, did you have to… wait, you're bleeding…"

"It ain't mine, Elizabeth." Comstock wipes at a splash of blood on his face with the back of his hand before kneeling down to pull the Bowie knife free, wiping it clean on the fallen guard's uniform. "Let's see if we can find… hold it, pal!"

Elizabeth whirls around as Comstock shouts, her companion aiming her revolver at the back door; a man in a white coat just stepped through, practically frozen with his bespectacled eyes wide with shock and fear. "Wh-wh-wha-?"

"How many more inside?" Storming up to the scientist, Comstock grabs him by the collar, the petrified man sputtering in abject terror, "How many?!"

"F-Five! Just don't…" Elizabeth steps closer as the scientist stammers out an answer, the terrified man looking to her, "D-don't let him…" He trails off, the scientist realizing he's not getting any sympathy from the hard look Elizabeth's giving him; while normally she'd feel something for anyone in this situation, Elizabeth can only imagine what this man must have done to make the Little Sisters.

"You…" The look in the scientist's gray eyes changes, Elizabeth imagining that he thinks he could be killed at any moment regardless of what happens, "You can't take the Little Sisters. They aren't ready, they haven't been implanted with the sea slugs yet! You won't get any ADAM from them, you goddamn Splicers!"

That was a mistake, Elizabeth glancing at Comstock and seeing the anger in his eyes. "Splicers, huh? We ain't here for ADAM, pal." A gunshot explodes in Elizabeth's ears, the scientist crying out in pain and clutching his knee, only Comstock's grip on the man keeping him from falling to the floor. "C'mon, we're going to gather your colleagues and see which one of them is feeling cooperative."

* * *

"Get in there."

Pushing the last of the Little Wonders' scientists into a cell, Comstock has to fight to keep his anger in check; the cell that would normally be occupied by a girl slated to become a Little Sister is decorated as such, but the transparent ceiling shows the room for what it is, and there more of the indoctrination signs that Comstock's seen elsewhere in the facility.

The other cells are all occupied, and the sounds that come from within are proving enough to unsettle the former Prophet; the sobbing and screaming of young girls echoes throughout the sterile facility, Little Sisters that are still in the process of being altered by Ryan's scientists suffering from it. But what truly unnerves him are the cells where there's quiet humming and singing emanating from within, the distorted voice of the Little Sisters reminding him of how Sally was when he tried to pull her from the heating vent in Fontaine's.

"I should gun you bastards down.'" Glaring at the scientists, Comstock's finger tightens ever so slightly around the trigger of his Thompson, the men and women in the cell shrinking away from him at the threat, "Ryan's say so doesn't wash your hands of this, any of it." Sally had been here, Comstock's sure of it, and imaging what had been done to her makes his blood boil.

Slamming the cell door shut on the cowering scientists, Comstock lowers his Thompson and turns back to Elizabeth, though his gaze focuses on the woman she's holding a gun on; one of the scientists, a thin woman who wears her black hair in a ponytail. When they'd gathered the scientists and started asking which of them was feeling cooperative, she'd frantically given in almost before Comstock got to asking. Elizabeth has her revolver pointed at the woman, though the scientist is plainly more frightened of Comstock.

"Alright, this is what we're looking for." With the others locked up, Elizabeth takes out the list of chemicals and compounds and hands it to the nervous scientist, the woman shrinking away from her at first. "I'm not going to hurt you, just take a look."

The scientist stares at the paper in Elizabeth's hand before hesitantly reaching to take it, Comstock noticing her hands shaking as she unfolds it. But the shaking lessens as the scientist goes down the list, her eyes widening as she finishes. "Do you… do you know what these are? What these compounds are f-for?"

"No. Doesn't matter, either." Comstock answers quickly, his patience wearing thin, "You know where we can find these, or not?" The scientist jumps a little at the sound of his voice, she still seemingly fearful of Comstock.

"Y-Yes…" The nervous scientist nods, her voice shaky, "Some are in the operating room… the rest are upstairs…"

"Great." Elizabeth breathes a quiet sigh, "We're almost done then… um, I'll check upstairs, I don't much care for visiting the operating room…"

"Fine by me." Nodding, Comstock turns his gaze back to the scientist, "You're coming with me; can't have you running to Ryan's men. And I figure I'll be needing you to find some of these."

The dark-haired woman visibly blanches as Comstock nods towards the operating room, but the mousey scientist doesn't offer a word of protest, starting down the gray and white tiled hallway without having to be told twice. The sound of Elizabeth's heels clacking on the solid stairs fades quickly as Comstock moves away, leaving him with the nervous scientist and the voices of the children in the cells. And he's none too happy as they approach the operating room; a sign reading Autopsy is placed next to the door as well, giving Comstock even more reason to wish harm on these scientists.

The operating room is about what Comstock would expect; cold, clinical, a number of hard tables with drains towards the back of the room with overhead lights. But Comstock can't help imagining Sally strapped down on one of them, the Little Wonders' scientists doing God knows what to them. "Saw a little redhead in one of the cells, quiet like. She been on these tables?" Comstock gives the mousey scientist a hard look, and she flinches before hesitantly shaking her head. "… get to it."

The scientist hurries to do just that, but she still takes a couple minutes gathering vials and beakers from the back, Comstock keeping an eye on her while trying his damnedest not to picture what else might go on in this place. And he's almost relieved when she returns, though Comstock's not about to let the scientist know that, "Good… looks like this is it. C'mon, we're going back…"

"You… you realize…" The mousey scientist holds her ground for a moment, Comstock stopping to glare back at her, "The Little Sisters won't survive if you take them from here…" She visibly swallows hard, Comstock narrowing his eyes at the dark-haired woman; whatever she's expecting for speaking out like this, Comstock can't imagine it's pleasant, and he can't help but wonder what sort of lunatic she thinks him.

Truth be told, he hadn't once considered taking the girls from their cells; Comstock isn't sure how they're going to escape with just him and Elizabeth, much less with a dozen or more little girls in tow. "And that ain't considering what's been done to them…" Comstock shakes his head slowly at the thought, an exasperated sigh escaping him, "Elizabeth… she's like enough to insist on it, and I'll end up on the wrong side of her temper again if I refuse…"

Looking back to the scientist, Comstock shrugs slowly, "Just keep moving." The mousey woman visibly stiffens at his answer, and she makes for the operating and autopsy room's exit without another word. Following the scientist back into the cell block of the Little Wonders facility, Comstock closes his eyes for a moment as the voices of the Little Sisters returns. "Elizabeth! Almost done up there?"

"Got it."

Elizabeth's voice and the sound of her heels on tile comes from overhead, Comstock able to follow the latter as she heads for the stairs. "Good." Calling out again, Comstock starts down the hall himself, prodding the scientist along with the barrel of his Thompson when needed, "Let's go, I want to be shut of this place."

Comstock and the mousey scientist have nearly crossed the hallway when Elizabeth appears on the stairwell. She looks none too happy, but Elizabeth nods quickly and hurries over to meet them, looking over the labels on the bottles, beakers and vials the mousey scientist carries. "This looks like everything… now to get it to our employer…"

Comstock watches as Elizabeth's gaze moves from the compounds and genetic modifications to the mousey woman, he silently hoping she's not going to say what he thinks she's going to say. "Not the Little Sisters…"

"Alright, I'll bite… what are these for? You asked if we knew earlier."

Both Comstock and the scientist blink, the latter obviously taken aback. "Umm… they're part of the conditioning and indoctrination process… these compounds are part of altering the Little Sisters' perception of the world around them, as well as their behavior…"

"What the hell…?" Muttering quietly, Comstock furrows his brow as he frowns; what could Lamb be doing with chemicals for twisting a little girl's mind? But Comstock still holds that it doesn't matter, they have a job to do and it's almost finished. "C'mon, there's a Jet Postal Pneumo in the front office."

"Alright… sorry, but you're going to have to wait with your colleagues." Taking the compounds from the scientist and placing them in her now overloaded satchel, Elizabeth nods towards the cell the other scientists are locked up in, "Someone's bound to find you, so…" The mousey, dark-haired woman doesn't put up a fight, Comstock leading her to the cell while Elizabeth follows and locking her up with the other scientists.

The office where the Jet Postal Pneumo is located is situated beside the Little Wonders' entry room, though there's nothing that would have let Elizabeth or Comstock know that until they were inside the facility proper. Microscopes and other scientific devices litter the office's desks along with forms and papers of all sorts, and the room is thankfully free of the voices of the Little Sisters.

"There it is." Heading towards the Pneumo against the back wall, Elizabeth fishes out the first of their precious cargo, "I think the beakers are small enough for Jet Postal…" A sigh parts her ruby lips, Elizabeth slowing as she comes to the Pneumo. "Best get this over with, I suppose.

Comstock takes a seat nearby as Elizabeth feeds the compounds into the Jet Postal Pneumo, the chemicals and modifications headed to an address that Lamb was kind enough to provide ahead of time. While they'd only collected five bottles, beakers and vials, it still takes some time to get them into the Jet Postal system, Comstock looking over his Thompson and shotgun by the time Elizabeth slips the third into the Pneumo.

"I'm surprised you didn't shoot them, Comstock."

Looking up from his weapon, Comstock finds Elizabeth peering at him from her place at the Pneumo. "Don't tempt me, I've been thinking about Sally and what these bastards must've done to her…" Gritting his teeth, Comstock takes a deep breath before looking Elizabeth square in the eye, "Hell, I'm surprised you don't want to take the Little Sisters away."

That gives Elizabeth pause, she staring back at Comstock for a good moment. "I do… but where can we take them? There's nowhere safe, and Ryan's men will just bring them right back if the Splicers don't… get them." Falling silent, Elizabeth puts the next compound into the Jet Postal tube and sends it off, she resting both hands on the Pneumo and hanging her head as a quiet sigh escapes her. "Dammit. I… I should call Lamb, let her know it's done…"

But Lamb doesn't respond when she speaks into the radio, Elizabeth and Comstock glancing at each other in surprise. "That's… odd. There has to be a reason why she's not answering, don't you think…?" Putting down the radio, Elizabeth asks Comstock quietly while feeding the last of the compounds into the Pneumo.

"Who knows-"

The office is suddenly bathed in bright red light, the sudden change forcing Comstock to squint as his eyes adjust; alarms have begun blaring throughout the facility, Elizabeth covering her ears as he jumps to his feet. "One of those bastards must've sounded the alarm!" Shouting, Comstock starts for the office door, now more than ready to start gunning the scientists down.

"Oh, I doubt that."

"Lamb?!" Comstock whirls around as Sofia Lamb's voice comes from the radio. "We got you your chemicals, what's this all about?!" Elizabeth quickly glances back to Comstock as he storms over to her and the radio, the look in her eye telling him she understands the situation as well as he does.

"Unfortunately, our partnership has come to an end." Lamb's voice is just as cold and dispassionate as ever as she speaks of betraying them, anger beginning to grow deep within the former Prophet with every word. "An associate of mine has been in contact with someone interested in your return, Ms. DeWitt, and you are apparently worth enough to Ryan to deliver everything I would have needed of you." The sound of dozens of footfalls comes from the distance as Lamb drones on.

"Dammit… run!" Cursing, Comstock bolts for the door, Elizabeth following with radio in hand.

"Of course, I don't expect either of you will surrender yourselves to Ryan without a fight, perhaps even to the death. But take heart; from your pain, another will be saved." With that, Lamb's voice disappears, leaving Elizabeth and Comstock with the alarms and the approaching security.

* * *

 **Author's Note: I'm sure this came as no surprise to anyone, especially after the last chapter of I'm Home. How do you think Elizabeth and Comstock will escape the Little Wonders facility, essentially a giant cage in more sense than one? Now, I didn't go into great detail on the description of the facility, because I thought that it would look much like the Little Wonders we saw in Bioshock, in Point Prometheus; not much reason to change the layout, is there?**

 **Now, I need to give the chapter at least one but probably more checks for grammar, confusing layout/flow and other errors (and I will in the morning, hopefully), but if you see something I've obviously missed, feel free to point it out. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter.**


	13. Tear Through The Trap

**For new readers, this story is based off of and is tied into several other pieces of mine. If you're not sure where to start, I'd suggest finding Bioshock Infinite: Unbroken, as well as its prequel Unbroken: Song of Sorrow and the continuation Unbroken: I'm Home. The beginning of this story also has roots in chapter five of Those Left Behind. Thanks for checking it out.**

* * *

12:05 PM

The pounding of countless boots on tile grows louder with each passing moment, echoing throughout the halls of the Little Wonders Educational Facility. And the approaching guards sound as if they're almost on top of them by the time Elizabeth sprints out of the sterile office, Comstock urging her on, "Just keep running!"

"Where?! Where are we running?"

Comstock falters for a moment, scanning the area quickly while brandishing his Thompson; there's no denying that they are trapped, but he'll be damned if he's just going to roll over for Ryan and Lamb. "Up! Get goi-!"

The double doors that lead to the facility's entry hall bursts inward, Comstock's voice drowned out as he turns and fires without a moment's hesitation. And his shots fly true despite the hasty aiming, the .45 rounds tearing into the first guard through, a rifle of some sort falling from his hands. "Just go!" More guards appear from behind the first as he slumps to the floor, and Comstock backs towards the nearest staircase while peppering the entrance with automatic fire; he doesn't dare look away until he's backed up to the staircase's first landing and has a foot on the next step up, a moment's inattention likely to prove fatal.

"Come on!" Elizabeth calls from above, and Comstock sprints the rest of the way up, taking the steps two at a time; gunfire erupts the moment he lets up to run, the suppressive fire on his part only serving to buy the two of them a few extra seconds to run and nearly empty the Thompson's magazine. The return volley tears into the stairwell where Comstock had been, but is replaced by footfalls after the barest of moments as Ryan's men give chase.

"So this is our plan?" Elizabeth shouts as she gestures towards the rest of the floor and the transparent, arched ceiling, her incredulous expression doing nothing to hide the fear in her eyes.

"Just get to the other side!" Slipping past Elizabeth, Comstock sprints down the right side of the second floor; this level is essentially a rectangular walkway, the rest of the floor used to observe the rooms below. The walkway towards the back is curved and only leads back to the other side, and the ceiling over that section is solid cement; it's the best place Comstock can think of to make a stand, their attackers having to come out into the open to pursue. And once they arrive, Comstock starts upending the metal desks for cover, forming a barricade as best he can while firing back down the hallway whenever a guard pokes their head out.

"They can't shoot up unless the want to let the sea in, for the most part…" Moving to help, Elizabeth heaves a quiet sigh, "How are you going to keep them from getting around us?"

"Don't have all the answers!" Grunting, Comstock pushes another desk into place before snapping off a shot down the walkway, the gunman that had stepped into sight ducking back into the stairwell. They're fairly well entrenched just before the hallway curves into the back and still within sight of the top of the stairs, the nearly completed barricades no more than a couple feet apart and providing them cover from front and back.

"Just… keep your head down. They'll have a hell of a time rushing us from the stairs, we'll hold them off…" Comstock's voice trails off; no matter how he looks at it, their situation is pretty damn grim, and the frightened look Elizabeth wears tells him she knows it as well as he.

"We'll hold them off as long as we can…" Elizabeth finishes quietly as she kneels behind the left metal barricade, and Comstock winces as he hears a touch of despair in her voice. She draws her small revolver and takes a deep breath, but Comstock shakes his head.

"Here," setting the last of six desks down, Comstock takes all the ammunition he's carrying and lays it out on the tile between them, taking a knee and keeping his voice low as Elizabeth cocks an eyebrow at him, "I'll shoot, you reload, alright?"

"I can help…" Even as she says it, Comstock can hear the trepidation in her voice, and she shakes her head slowly, "I supp-"

"DeWitt!"

A woman barks loudly, Comstock starting at the voice for a split second before realizing its coming from the floor below. Still, he holds his Thompson at the ready, alert and waiting for Ryan's people to come storming in. "Come on out and surrender peacefully! You're coming with us, dead or alive!"

"Gives us a minute to think it over!" Shouting back, Comstock turns to Elizabeth, shaking his head slowly as she stares back, "I ain't giving up. Where do you figure that voice came from?"

Elizabeth glances towards the back; there's a gap between the inner walkway and wall of the observation area as well as another pair near the back walls, leading down to Autopsy and from which Ryan's men could lob a grenade up at them. And Comstock watches as her gaze tracks over to the railing immediately behind them, "There, that's where the voice is coming from… why?" Despite their dire circumstances, Elizabeth's question draws a chuckle from Comstock.

"So what's it gonna be, huh?!"

A blackened fireball soars over the walkway's railing and in the direction of the speaker, Comstock's Plasmid bouncing off the back wall. The blue light that streams through the transparent celling and the sea beyond disappears for a split second, the resulting explosion bathing the walls around Elizabeth and Comstock in a hellish glow and eliciting cries and screams of pain. Cries that quickly turn into furious shouts.

"Here they come!" Training his Thompson on the stairwell at the end of the floor, Comstock squeezes off burst after burst as Ryan's soldiers push out onto the second floor, but most of the security force just shrugs off his shots and take cover behind the wall on the far side. And once they're safely out of the open, the gunmen start returning fire in earnest, Comstock ducking behind the desk as bullets fly overhead and into the hard metal of the desks.

"Reload!" Dropping his Thompson, Comstock brings his shotgun up and fires at a trio coming out of the stairs, hoping to slow down the security force's advance; Comstock doesn't have much hope of seriously harming Ryan's spliced up enforcers with the shotgun at this range, and there's only so much EVE left in his system.

"Done, this is the last of it!"

Elizabeth's voice is barely audible over the withering hail of gunfire, Comstock sparing her a glance while reaching for the now loaded Thompson; Elizabeth clutches her revolver tightly enough that her knuckles have turned a shade whiter than her alabaster skin, her eyes wide and searching for something he can't fathom. "Scared… but I figure she's trying to think a way out of this…" Gritting his teeth, Comstock quickly drops to his right and fires through a gap in the barricade, scrambling back up just as quickly before a bullets finds him in return.

Elizabeth and Comstock have been cornered a few times before, but never this badly, and the only help they've had in this entire insane city is the very same person who sold them out and led them into this trap. And sometimes, there just isn't a good solution, no matter how much she looks for it. "Elizabeth! If you see a way out, you take it!"

"What?" Elizabeth shouts back, flinching noticeably as a number of bullets ricochet off the desk she's hiding behind, "Did you say there's a wa- look out!"

The panic in Elizabeth's voice causes Comstock to whirl around, dropping his Thompson and bringing the shotgun up as he turns. And her warning comes just in time; a pair of men in the uniforms of Ryan Security are in the midst of vaulting over the railing beside Comstock, the nearer drawing a revolver while the farther wields a metal club.

Funny thing is, while the shotgun may only cause flesh wounds to the gunmen at the end of the walkway, these two aren't as fortunate.

Comstock's first blast catches the revolver-wielding soldier in the chest, the off-white material of his uniform suddenly bloody as he's forcibly stopped mid-jump. And he falls with a loud crash, a scream of a little girl coming from below; he must have landed in one of the Little Sisters' cells. But the second guard is on him before Comstock can squeeze off another shot, viciously swinging the club.

The impact knocks Comstock's shotgun away, and it's all he can do to get inside the guard's swing before the club can connect with anything vital. He can hear Elizabeth gasp as they grapple, Comstock fighting to beat back the guard before the rest of the security force can rush over. Last thing he needs to hear is footfalls or gunshots.

And a gunshot he hears as he's slammed back into one of the metal desks, and the guard's grip on him suddenly goes limp. "What… Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth's got her revolver trained on the guard, her hands shaking slightly but not enough to throw her aim off; she'd shot the guard in the shoulder, nearer to his torso than arm, enough to weaken his hold this much at least. And Comstock takes the opening, wrenching himself free of the guard's grip and reaching for the Bowie knife behind his back, plunging it quickly into his opponent's neck.

"This… this is hopeless!"

Kicking the fallen guard away and reaching for his shotgun, Comstock's about to clear the spent casing and snap off a shot when he hears Elizabeth's voice, and her tone draws a grimace from the former Prophet. The hint of despair he'd heard before the firefight is now anything but, and Comstock can imagine just what it is that's terrifying her.

"I ain't letting Ryan get his hands on Elizabeth…" Cursing under his breath, Comstock growls as he fires back at the security force; what Ryan has planned for Elizabeth makes his skin crawl, and Comstock knows the tyrant will resurrect her as many times as needed to get what he wants from her. Anger sparks deep within Comstock, and Devil's Kiss responds almost before he calls for it.

"I'll keep them busy, Elizabeth. Jump down and get the hell out of here when I do."

Before Elizabeth can react, Comstock hurls the flaming ball over the railing again and quickly forms another, expending the last of his EVE as the first detonates among the soldiers below. Rising to hurl the last fireball down the walkway, Comstock shouts as bullets whiz past all around him, "Run, Eliza-guh!"

Time seems to slow as pain lances through his chest; something solid and shaped vaguely like an office chair slammed into his chest, knocking the wind out of him and roughly throwing him back against the rear barricade. The fireball disappears harmlessly, Comstock staring at his now normal hand in a daze while wondering just what the hell happened. He can vaguely hear a voice calling for him, but it takes Comstock a good moment to take his gaze from his hand. "…ck? Comstock!"

Elizabeth's voice sounds distant even though she's mere feet away, still kneeling behind the now badly mangled metal desks. But his young companion is not where Comstock's gaze settles; a figure in an off-white trench coat approaches with one hand raised ahead of it, Comstock only able to tell that it's one of Ryan's men thanks to the face-concealing helmet and uniform. And something tells him that his current state is thanks to the person inching along the guard rail towards them, Comstock gritting his teeth and forcing himself off the ground.

"Best fight fire with Plasmids… wait…" Even as the smell of ozone and crackling of electricity fills his ears, Comstock shakes his head, trying to clear the cobwebs from his mind; can't afford to miss, even though Shock Jockey's nowhere near as EVE intensive as Devil's Kiss or Old Man Winter. "Least they ain't shooting as much…"

"Wait… what?!"

A peculiar sound rips through facility, drowning out the report of automatic weapons. An all too familiar sound for Comstock and undoubtedly even more so for Elizabeth. But Ryan's men have no such experience with the phenomenon, many of them visibly surprised even from across the room. But what comes after surprises the hell out of him.

Ringing fills the facility as a flying automaton appears between the security force and Elizabeth and Comstock, fixing a yellow spotlight on the nearby figure. The machine is kept aloft by a trio of balloons that reach the transparent ceiling and a whirling rotor about its center. And the ringing stops a moment later, the spotlight turning red.

The machine slams into the railing hard, catching the masked figure by surprise, the rotor tearing into the Plasmid-wielding soldier. And Comstock's suddenly glad that Elizabeth hadn't peeked out from behind the desk, the splashes of red on the white tile the least gory result of the attack.

Security reacts sporadically to the new threat, burst of gunfire focusing on the Mosquito, but the automaton returns in kind; a large Gatling gun slung beneath it turns towards the gunmen, the machine returning fire even as bullets crash into its metal frame.

"Go, go!" Motioning towards the railing, Elizabeth gathers up what's left of the ammunition and jumps out of the barricade, Comstock following after her groggily. They aren't even vaguely close to being in the clear yet, but the despair and hopelessness in Elizabeth's voice has vanished, cautious optimism taking their place.

Running between the open ceilings of two Little Sister cells, Comstock hears an explosion as he lowers Elizabeth to the first floor, he looking back quickly and spying the twisted body of the automaton crashing against the railing. "Ah, hell… go!" No time to take this slowly, Comstock jumps down, only slowing to make sure he isn't about to land on Elizabeth, "Run!"

"Okay!" Elizabeth and Comstock sprint towards the exit, a half dozen piles of ash left on the floor and a pair of blast showing where the Devil's Kiss fireballs detonated. And the closer they get, the more Comstock can hear footsteps and voices closing in, the sounds coming most from the stairwell they're approaching.

"Surround them!"

"Elizabeth, get behind me!" Comstock moves to place himself between Elizabeth and the stairs, the shout barely preceding the appearance of a wave of guards coming after them.

But bullets don't come flying their way, the sound of another Tear opening drowning out their shouts; a grainy, flickering brick and mortar wall suddenly appears, blocking off the stairwell and trapping the guards behind it.

And just like that, they're past, Elizabeth and Comstock flying through the double doors and making a break for the exit.

* * *

"What the hell was that?!"

"Tears!" Shouting back breathlessly, Elizabeth bursts through the doors of the Little Wonders Educational Facility and out onto the now empty Market Street. She's still a mess of panic and frayed nerves, but putting that nightmarish lab behind her fills Elizabeth with a deep sense of relief. "And a Mosquito! W-Where are we running to?"

"I know what a Tear is!" Comstock snaps back as he runs towards Jet Postal, Elizabeth scowling at the irritation in his voice, "What I want to know is who's responsible?"

That, Elizabeth hasn't an answer for, but she's not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. And they have more pressing concerns than where the mysterious aid came from; a woman's voice rings clearly throughout the deserted Market Street, Elizabeth recognizing it as the Public Announcement speaker. "This area is temporarily under emergency curfew. For your own safety, please remain in your homes and lock your doors until the curfew is lifted. Cooperation with Ryan Security is mandatory."

"Son of a bitch!" Skidding to a halt just before the stairs down to Jet Postal, Comstock starts cursing angrily, and Elizabeth silently echoes the sentiment. She could probably pick the lock of an empty store and find them a hiding place, but what good will that do when Ryan's forces sweep through Market Street and search every building along the way? They're still trapped, their flight from medical laboratory only giving them a larger cage to escape.

"We have to try for the Arms, Comstock. Maybe…" Trying to get her furious companion's attention, Elizabeth peers nervously back at the Little Wonders facility; they can't stay here, the guards inside likely making their way out as she speaks, yet going forward could very well end up with them trapped between two groups of security. "Maybe security hasn't gotten there yet…"

"… spirits…"

Elizabeth blinks; did Comstock say that? The faint voice sounds nothing like him, but it is close. Muffled, quiet, and Elizabeth has a suspicion it didn't come from Comstock. "Did you hear…?"

"Go to Sinclair Spirits…" The familiar voice sounds off again, Elizabeth jumping slightly as she realizes it's coming from her satchel. The radio, she must have left it on.

"H-Hello?" Fishing the shortwave from her satchel and turning away from Comstock, Elizabeth hesitantly calls out quietly, hoping against hope that her ears aren't deceiving her or her mind isn't playing a trick on her.

"Run, Elizabeth, get to Sinclair Spirits."

Elizabeth's heart soars as her own voice whispers back through the radio. The Voice sounds a touch different, slightly lower pitched, but it's unmistakably her own. Not surprising, really, that the voice in her head sounds off with as much stress as Elizabeth is under.

"Who are you talking to?" Comstock abruptly turns back to Elizabeth, his blue eyes narrowing at her suspiciously, "Is it Lamb? I got some words for that…"

"No." Shaking her head quickly, Elizabeth flashes a nervous smile while sipping the shortwave back into her satchel; no need to let Comstock know she's hearing voices from her damaged psyche. "I thought I heard something, but I was… I was wrong. Umm… we should…" Faltering, Elizabeth takes a deep breath before attempting to continue, hoping to come off as reasonably sound rather than questioning her own state of mind. "I have a feeling we'll find a way out at Sinclair Spirits…"

"A… feeling, huh?" Comstock responds slowly, still staring at her suspiciously. "Ah… haven't steered us wrong yet…" A crash comes from within Little Wonders, cutting Comstock off and causing Elizabeth to jump. "Dammit, run!"

Bolting back across the entrance to the Little Wonders Educational Facility and down the steps, Elizabeth and Comstock run down the dark wood stairs and past the Satyr Lounge, Sinclair Spirits coming up on their left almost immediately; the shop is dark, abandoned and a touch foreboding, the double doors on the left hanging slightly ajar. But it's still preferable to staying out in the open with Ryan's security bearing down on them, Elizabeth slipping inside before Comstock can object.

"Go, go! They're around here somewhere!"

Shouts precede the pounding of boots on the white and burgundy tile of Market Street, Elizabeth quickly easing the doors shut once Comstock's inside and engaging the lock. And with the door locked, Elizabeth holds her breath and keeps perfectly still for fear of being found out.

The sounds that come from outside strike Elizabeth less as a number of armed soldiers and more a crashing wave or rolling thunder, and she cringes quietly at the anger she hears in their voices; maybe her frazzled mind is simply attributing traits that aren't there, but Elizabeth doesn't care to imagine what the raging soldiers will do if they catch her.

"They're gone…" Only daring to breathe again once the wave of guards is past, Elizabeth whispers the words between breaths as she tries to quell the burning in her lungs, "… for now, I suppose…"

"Only a matter of time before they come in here, Elizabeth." Comstock whispers from further in the darkened bar, Elizabeth squinting in the dark to find him taking a seat at one of the booths, "Where's this way out of yours?"

"Well, look who just waltzed into my establishment." A light flares into existence for a brief moment, Elizabeth turning quickly towards the bar only to find a dim, burning ember floating in the dark. "I've heard all sorts of whispers about the two of you, and I must say… I'm impressed."

"Who are you?" Squinting, Elizabeth carefully reaches for the revolver tucked behind her back; the entire city seems intent on doing them harm, and Elizabeth won't be trusting this stranger in any way. The voice definitely belongs to a man, and his accent gives Elizabeth the impression of a 'Southern gentleman', though she's not about to go off that assumption. "Why were you waiting here in the dark?"

"The name's Augustine Sinclair, ma'am. Esquire." The ember bobs slightly, the smoke of the cigarette reaching Elizabeth, "And I own this establishment." Elizabeth's eyes slowly adjust to the weak light as Sinclair goes on, and she's beginning to make out some details of the man. "As for why, I've been following your exploits of late, and this latest turn doesn't surprise me one bit."

"We don't have time for this." The sound of a bolt being pulled back comes from where Comstock sits, Elizabeth peering over to see his shape standing with a weapon in hand, "You looking to turn us in to Ryan?"

That just draws a chuckle from Sinclair, Elizabeth creeping quietly over to Comstock as she waits for an answer. "After the trouble you went through with Lamb, you're right to question my motives. But I'm nothing like ol' Doc Lamb, that you can take to the bank, DeWitt."

"That's very reassuring…" Muttering and clearly sounding unconvinced, Elizabeth peers through the darkness at Sinclair, "What do you want?"

"Why, to help you out of here. I didn't build a business called Sinclair Solutions for nothing, darlin'. Call it a gesture of goodwill, in hopes of fostering a beneficial relationship."

That draws a sigh from Elizabeth; of course he wants something of them, this is Rapture after all. Quid pro quo is practically the foundation of Rapture's society. But Sinclair's offering them a means of escape, and Elizabeth is desperate enough to listen, if only for the sake of slipping away from Ryan and Lamb. "Alright… I'm listening."

Comstock shoots her a surprised look, but Sinclair speaks up before he can object, "Listen to the girl, friend. You aren't makin' it out of here on your lonesome, Ryan's practically got a company of his enforcers coming down here to root you out." Sinclair casually leans on the bar, idly pulling a tumbler close and procuring a bottle from below, "Now, I'm not about to broadcast our chats to the whole city like Doc Lamb did, but we'll get to that another time."

"For now, come on back behind the bar, there's an access corridor through this here door that'll help you slip away." Standing up straight, Sinclair steps towards the mentioned door and raps his knuckles on the frosted glass, "There's a maintenance elevator over yonder, it'll get you back to the lobby. Keep that radio handy, darlin', I'll be in touch."

* * *

 **Author's Note: Well, he wasn't vague at all, was he? Sinclair isn't exactly a compassionate person, what do you think his angle in all this is, and can Elizabeth and Comstock trust him? Will they even try after their experience with Lamb? They don't know a thing about Sinclair, but we certainly do. And who do you think opened those Tears to help them? And now that Lamb's betrayed and attempted to hand them over to Ryan, Elizabeth and Comstock are still stuck at the bottom of the sea without an end in sight.**

 **So that's it for Market and High Street, we'll see where in Rapture Elizabeth and Comstock end up next. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Also, the chapter title may change, it's the best I can come up with at this hour.**


	14. Down Into The Depths

**For new readers, this story is based off of and is tied into several other pieces of mine. If you're not sure where to start, I'd suggest finding Bioshock Infinite: Unbroken, as well as its prequel Unbroken: Song of Sorrow and the continuation Unbroken: I'm Home. The beginning of this story also has roots in chapter five of Those Left Behind. Thanks for checking it out.**

* * *

May 14, 1959

The thundering roar of a shotgun reverberates throughout the darkened tunnel, its deadly blast catching a snarling, spitting Splicer square in the chest. And silence falls as the echo of the blast fades away, only the labored breath of Elizabeth and Comstock sounding in this empty, forgotten place.

"Not again…" Heaving a deep, immensely fatigued sigh, Elizabeth lets her eyes close for a moment, though there's really no difference whether she has them open or not; the tunnel is pitch black, so dark that she may as well be blind for all she can see down here. Their only light came from a makeshift torch, lit by Comstock's Devil's Kiss or her Incinerate! Plasmid, but it had gone out when the Splicers came screaming out of the dark. Elizabeth's sure she spied a blast of ice and frigid air preceding the raving lunatics, though whether snuffing out the torch was intentional on the Splicers part or just a lucky shot, she hasn't a clue.

A snap of fingers, and Elizabeth's briefly dazzled as light suddenly returns to her world. "Sorry." Comstock's voice comes from her right, Elizabeth wearily turning to her companion as he retrieves the pipe and blackened cloth wrapped about one end, setting it alight once more. Comstock looks just as exhausted as Elizabeth feels, but neither of them can afford to rest; this pack of Splicers was hardly the first, and the gunshots are certain to draw any others that might be lurking in the shadows nearby.

They've been keeping underground ever since escaping the trap in the Little Wonders Educational Facility, and while passing through the forgotten or abandoned parts of Rapture has allowed them to evade Ryan, it's a different story entirely for the feral, deranged Splicers that dwell in the city's recesses. "And it hasn't kept us clear of Lamb, either…" A meager scowl touches Elizabeth's lips, tall that she can muster in her state; they've encountered three groups of Lamb's followers since taking refuge in the pipes, forgotten halls and the abandoned Atlantic Express tunnel.

"They don't know the tunnels like these folks." Comstock adds, setting the torch down against the curved wall of the tunnel and reloading his shotgun, "Got the jump on the last two groups, can't imagine Lamb's fool enough to keep at it."

"Doesn't change the fact that nearly the whole city is hunting us…" Looking down at the revolver in her hand, Elizabeth wonders idly if the weapon has always been so heavy.

"Not the whole city." Grunting, Comstock retrieves the torch and starts down the tracks again, holding the light forward and keeping his shotgun aimed ahead, "Something tells me Ryan's not about to put up wanted posters with our likeness on them. Doubt we'll see any trouble from everyday folk."

"I suppose so…" Elizabeth brushes a loose tress behind her ear, frowning at the oily feel of the dyed black hair beneath her fingers. It's been four days since they went underground again, four long days of running, of hiding and of fighting. And the only reason Elizabeth even knows that it's been four days thanks to a handful of excursions out of the rail line, pipes and sewers, these temporary returns to civilization a nerve-wracking but much needed reprieve from the dark.

But Elizabeth's sanity isn't the reason she and Comstock risk being made by Ryan or Lamb. Sinclair has contacted them a few times, a few terse words directing them to one of his 'dead drops', some of them simply a location where a package would arrive via Jet Postal. "Ammo, a health kit and EVE vial…" Shifting the strap on her shoulder, Elizabeth sighs quietly as she feels the much diminished weight of the satchel against her hip, "We could really use some food and water…"

"Lamb's still gunning for us, figure she still means to hand us over to Ryan."

"Sounds about right…" Glancing at Comstock, Elizabeth shrugs, "I can't imagine Ryan held up his end of the bargain after we slipped away… barely. So whatever it is that she needs those materials for…"

"Yeah. And she ain't getting them, either."

Elizabeth nods slowly, silently hoping he's right. To pass the time, Elizabeth and Comstock have taken to speculating on what purpose Lamb could have for the genetic materials she's been seeking and had been willing to sell them out for. There isn't much else they can do while hiding underground, aside from how they could possibly throw a wrench in the psychiatrist's plans.

"All I've come up with is that Lamb wants to make a Little Sister of her own… or perhaps she means to study them? That doesn't strike me as anything good…"

Falling silent, Elizabeth gives her companion a quick sideways glance as they carefully walk down the abandoned tunnel; she's been finding herself falling into conversation with Comstock more and more, and not just for matters of necessity. While it may just be the numbing fatigue and hopelessness of her situation, Elizabeth just doesn't feel the anger and hate she had for Comstock not long ago. And the very thought troubles Elizabeth.

"It's been… two weeks? Is that really how long it's been?" Elizabeth glances up to the curved, barely visible concrete ceiling while pondering just what is going on with her.

Elizabeth and Comstock had been in the middle of relocating again when the Splicers attacked, moving from the small maintenance room they'd taken shelter in to keep any pursuers guessing. Whether or not there's another place to rest down the line is anyone's guess, but they have to keep moving, if only to stay one step ahead of Ryan and Lamb.

"Dammit…" A muttered curse comes from Comstock, Elizabeth glancing over with what little curiosity she can muster. Her look doesn't go unnoticed, Elizabeth's companion heaving an exasperated sigh before returning the glance, "What I want to know is, where the hell are the Luteces in all this?"

That is a good question, and Elizabeth wonders the same herself; the Luteces were present that night in the Toys Department, for however briefly, but there hasn't been so much as a hint of the peculiar twins since her revival in the Vita-Chamber. Aside from the Tears, of course. "The Tears could have been their doing, but… that doesn't strike me as their usual manner…"

A nod from Comstock is all she gets, the two of them continuing down the now curving tunnel in silence. There's no easy way to measure the passage of time down here, walking through the seemingly endless dark, but Elizabeth tries anyway. She tries to measure by the sound of their footsteps echoing off the concrete walls, by counting out the seconds in her mind, but between her fatigue and the possibility of being ambushed, Elizabeth finds the effort nearly futile.

And so Elizabeth heaves a great sigh of relief when the torchlight is cast upon a door about half an hour later, set into the right wall as the tunnel curves gently that way. "Wait, hold up, Elizabeth." Comstock quickly steps between Elizabeth and the door, handing her the torch after a moment. She knows the drill, and Elizabeth takes the torch while giving Comstock a resigned nod; he leads, she brings up the rear. Nothing's gotten the jump on them while investigating a place to rest, but Comstock isn't taking any chances.

The door leads to a small, narrow room with another door in the back, a sign that reads 'Access Stairwell' on its plain gray surface. There's a desk to the left with a chair and some papers cluttering its surface, the sole furnishing in the dusty concrete room. "… we've seen worse, I suppose. Can we step inside now?" Peering over Comstock's shoulder while holding the torch up, Elizabeth cocks an eyebrow at her companion.

"Sure… looks safe enough…" But Comstock doesn't move for a moment, peering into the room suspiciously before moving inside. And Elizabeth rolls her eyes at his back; Comstock's grown even more cautious and protective, something which had grated on Elizabeth's nerves at first. Now, she's come to accept it, but it still annoys Elizabeth.

"Hey, look at this…" Easing the door shut behind her, Elizabeth notices something just to the left of the doorframe, "A map of the Atlantic Express rail lines…" There are several lines, Elizabeth spotting a couple of the dark, abandoned train stations they'd passed. "Doesn't really help us, though…"

It takes a couple minutes to get settled, though Elizabeth's a touch sad to see Comstock ripping the chair apart for a small fire. Still, they need to keep warm and preserve their makeshift torch, so the fire is still much appreciated. And maybe she can get a hot meal in her, or at least something close to hot; the tunnel isn't the warmest of places, and the warmth could do her some good. But the simple truth is that she just doesn't have the heart to care.

"Numb…" Murmuring quietly, Elizabeth takes a seat on the cold, hard floor while Comstock lights the fire, pulling her knees closes and resting her chin on her crossed arms; she hasn't felt much else aside from numb, and not just from the fatigue, either. There's no light at the end of the tunnel, not anymore, and a mantle of despair and hopelessness has wrapped itself around her tightly. And one thought sums up her entire state of mind, playing through her mind whenever she hasn't something to keep her occupied. "We're never getting out of here, we're already buried at sea…"

This is her life now, hiding, scared and hunted. She barely remembers dreaming of Paris, all the romantic notions she'd once held for that city distant and fleeting. "I wish I could have seen Paris, just once before I…" Elizabeth can't finish, staring silently into the flames dancing on shredded, curling paper and fragments of wood. Her thoughts drift to where the bird brooch once rested against her neck, suddenly missing it terribly. "Not mine… it's the real Elizabeth's, it's where it belongs…" A heavyhearted sigh escapes Elizabeth; the encouragement from the Voice seems so long ago, and Elizabeth hasn't heard a word from the voice in her head since the Fighting McDonagh's.

"You'll see it." Looking up at the sound of Comstock's voice, Elizabeth just stares back at the man as he crouches on the far side of the fire, "Once we're well shut of this place, we'll…"

Elizabeth peers back at Comstock, her companion leaving the promise unfinished and looking toward the door. "... what is it?" He doesn't answer, and Elizabeth doesn't need him to; very faint voices come from somewhere in the tunnel, Elizabeth's eyes growing wide as she realizes they're growing closer. "Son of a…"

The light from the fire vanishes, Comstock jumping to his feet and stamping it out quickly, plunging the narrow room into darkness again. And Elizabeth draws her revolver, keeping as still and silent as she can while apprehension, fear and adrenaline cut through the numbness. More hiding, more living in fear, and Elizabeth's sick of it.

"… told you, Maude! We're done with Pauper's Drop, done with Sinclair's 'Deluxe'! There's opportunities up above with the war going on, and by God, I'm going to find them!" A woman's voice sounds next, but the man keeps going, the two voices competing and overlapping. A husband and wife, Elizabeth's certain of it. From what she can pick out, they'd been living in a room at the 'Sinclair Deluxe', making ends meet however they can.

"Pauper's Drop… Sinclair has a business there?" Whispering once the arguing voices are well past, Elizabeth climbs to her feet and snaps her fingers, a small flame of her own dancing on her thumb. "Look… we aren't far from the junction, between Ryan Amusement's and Pauper's Drop, if we can just get there…"

It may be nothing more than another place to hide and rest, but now Elizabeth and Comstock have somewhere to go, some goal to reach instead of just wandering through the dark. "Maybe… maybe we can contact Sinclair, figure out what to do next…" Comstock just nods, and Elizabeth fishes a _Cheeky_ Brand Pep Bar from her satchel; it may not be hot, but it'll have to do for now.

* * *

Several hours later

"So this is Pauper's Drop."

Slipping through vertical space in the halfway lowered metal gate, Elizabeth takes a few steps down the grating that makes up the floor of the track; this line has a single, overhead rail that the train must run along somehow, the space in the large gate Elizabeth entered the train station through probably there to accommodate it. There are a number of girders overhead, and much of the station is plain concrete and bare metal. Splashes sound from beneath her heels, courtesy of a thin layer of water covering the track's floor. The water's worrisome, but there's nowhere near enough for Elizabeth to suspect that there's a leak in the station's glass roof.

"Never thought I'd be grateful to see the ocean above me again…" Mumbling to herself and breathing a quiet sigh once she's finished, Elizabeth glances back the way she came, Comstock stepping sideways through the gap in the partly lowered gate; she'd counted herself fortunate that the journey to the junction had gone without incident, but Elizabeth quickly amending what she was grateful for once they'd turned onto the new line and passed the first gate.

It may have been dim, blue and cast long shadows in the tunnel, but the light that filtered through the glass ceiling was still a marked improvement over the darkness Elizabeth and Comstock had been mucking through. And the toll the darkness had taken on Elizabeth's mood and mind has been steadily fading away, though there's still plenty vying to drive her insane. "I must admit, one thing Columbia had over Rapture is plenty of light…"

"You can say that again." Comstock's voice comes from right beside her, Elizabeth blinking in surprise before turning to her companion. "C'mon, we best keep moving. Spotted anything of use, Elizabeth?"

"Not yet." Continuing down the track, Elizabeth rests her right hand against her canvas satchel, "Perhaps we should contact Sinclair… who knows, he might be nearby, or have another dead drop for us." Wondering aloud, Elizabeth spots a few things of note as they approach the short flight of concrete steps up to the platform; there's an empty room with a sign reading 'Bulkhead Control' near the gate where Elizabeth and Comstock entered the train station, and a ticketing room at the top of the steps, opposite the first and just as deserted. Not interesting per say, but Elizabeth figures there might be something useful inside.

But peering through the glass of the ticketing counters, Elizabeth nearly stumbles over the last step; two posters on the back wall, both advertisements for 'Dr. Lamb's Therapy Office', the features of Elizabeth and Comstock's erstwhile ally displayed prominently on the peeling paper. Now Elizabeth has a face to go with the voice, and so does Comstock.

"So that's Lamb." Comstock's voice comes out far colder than when last he spoke, practically staring a hole through the poster. It doesn't last long, but it seems to take Comstock some effort to tear his gaze away, Elizabeth wondering just what was going through his mind. "Something tells me Lamb's got her people down here. Best not pay these any mind, 'less we want to get made."

"Sounds about right." Lamb's philosophy does strike Elizabeth as something that would be embraced among the poor, especially with Rapture's _laissez-faire_ policy and the civil war. "We can only hope that Lamb doesn't have many of her people down here looking for us…" Even as she says it, Elizabeth realizes that's too much to hope for; Lamb's been sending groups into the tunnels to root the two of them out, it isn't a stretch of the imagination that the psychiatrist would have some lookouts in Pauper's Drop.

Stepping away from the ticketing counters and across the cement floor of the platform, Elizabeth lets Comstock take the lead and glances back at the station one last time, the rusted Securis door that serves as the exit rising with a groan. There's a number of cracks running through the concrete, and Elizabeth has to wonder if the trash that litters the area is due to the civil war, or if this is just life as usual in the Drop. "Suppose I'll find out soon. Okay… just keep moving…"

The hallway beyond is just the same as the train station, decrepit and crumbling with metal panels and rusting pipes crisscrossing the way, and there's a window on the left affording a view of the ocean floor. But Elizabeth and Comstock still have to pass through two more Securis doors on their way to Pauper's Drop proper, the hallways no different from the first and where peeling advertisements and photos covering the walls. And Elizabeth knows they've arrived when she follows Comstock through a line of abandoned ticketing stations, a building dead ahead with a neon sign reading 'Fishbowl Diner'.

While Elizabeth notices a pair of train rails overhead and the transparent, barrel vaulted ceiling, spots the trash piled in corners and the burning barrels that dot the area, what most alarms her is on top of the diner itself; a dark-skinned woman stands at the edge of the roof, speaking to a crowd assembled in front of the diner and atop it as well. Elizabeth doesn't need to look especially hard to notice that most of the crowd wears the blue butterfly pins associated with Lamb's people.

Fortunately, the crowd doesn't make up the entirety of the Drop's population, Elizabeth spying several people inside the diner and many others going about their business while giving Lamb's followers a wide berth. The Sinclair Deluxe lies past the crowd, Elizabeth barely able to make out the sign past the corner of the diner and above another Securis door.

"Best go around, no point slipping past these fanatics, 'less we have to."

An amused smile tugs at the corner of Elizabeth's lips; something about Comstock saying that just strikes her as ironic. But she keeps her thoughts to herself, following after her companion as he steps away from the ticketing booths and hangs a right, "Alright, lead the way."

Circling around the diner, Elizabeth keeps her gaze straight ahead, not wanting to appear any more out of place than she already feels. But as she follows Comstock past a flower shop and another Securis door with a crudely written 'Downtown' sign beside it, Elizabeth can't help her surprise when half a dozen men and women come up the pair of stairs and pass by them without a glance. "Suppose this is a good thing… at least we're blending in." A hint of a frown flashes across Elizabeth's expression; she doesn't care to imagine how disheveled she must look, not after four days of hiding underground.

While the diner serves to keep them out of sight of the crowd of Lamb's supporters, the woman's deep voice and Southern accent rings clear throughout the area, and Elizabeth can't help but hear her preaching. Most of it is just more of the same philosophy of solidarity and serving the greater good, but when they round the diner's back left corner and the passage to the Sinclair Deluxe comes into view, the woman's preaching changes to something personal, and that catches Elizabeth's ear.

"Where's the justice in taking little girls from their homes, from the arms of their loved ones? In twisting those little girls into something so sick that they can't even be called children?! Rapture was built by folks like us, yet Ryan and his elite just keep on taking from us! But Dr. Lamb, she's nothing like Ryan, she still cares for folk like us!"

"Looks like Lamb's got these folks fooled." Comstock mutters quietly, but Elizabeth can hear the distaste in his voice plain as day. And Elizabeth has to fight to keep from taking a shot at her companion, the irony nearly drawing a chuckle from her despite their situation.

"Ryan locked her up in that prison of Sinclair's, gutted the believers something awful. But she left her sweet baby Eleanor in my care, lifted my spirits so high I felt I was walking on air. But they can't let us poor folks have any measure of happiness, no sir; Ryan's Tin Daddy came and took little Eleanor away, snatched her up and vanished like smoke. And what happened when I finally saw her again? Eleanor became one of those sick little creatures, and the Tin Daddy broke my jaw when I tried to hold her again!"

"Lamb has a daughter… and she's a Little Sister…" Elizabeth comes to a stop at the diner's corner, the door to the Sinclair Deluxe all but forgotten; the pieces start falling into place in Elizabeth's mind, the materials they'd gathered for Lamb suddenly making sense. "So she's trying to cure her daughter? Or does she have something else in mind for Eleanor…?"

"Doesn't matter." Comstock glances back at her irritably, before gesturing for her to follow, "I don't care if Lamb's got a daughter or not, I ain't passing up a shot if I get one. And if Sinclair's good for a way out of here, I don't give a damn if he runs a prison, or the damn city once all's said and done."

"… if you say so." Elizabeth gives the ill-tempered Comstock a curious look; Sinclair never promised them escape, and his motives are still entirely unclear. The fact that Sinclair is involved in some sort of prison had caught Elizabeth by surprise, and had given her cause for concern, but they've come too far to turn back now. Still, she has to raise a question as the pair pass through the door and into a half-cylinder glass tunnel, "But… if Lamb is trying to cure her daughter, is it alright to interfere?"

Comstock peers back at her slowly, an uncomfortable silence settling between them as they walk down the glass tunnel. "We're bound to find out what she's up to if we get involved. Just call Sinclair, see what he knows about it."

"What?" Glaring back at Comstock, Elizabeth grits her teeth as anger swells up within her again, cutting its way through the numbing fatigue and hopelessness. It doesn't matter to her that he's probably just as worn down as she is, just as short-tempered and likely focused on how to pay Lamb back in kind, being ordered around by Comstock does not sit well with Elizabeth. Grabbing the radio from her satchel, Elizabeth shoves the shortwave into his hands before storming past, "Why don't you just call him yourself, huh?!"

Fuming, Elizabeth only half-listens as Comstock slowly speaks into the radio and keeps several paces ahead of the man; the old anger's back in full, and Elizabeth doesn't want to even look at him right now. Comstock makes no effort to ask her of anything, Elizabeth guessing her anger at him did not go unnoticed; he just keeps trying to contact Sinclair, Comstock's voice echoing in the tunnel only to be answered by silence over the radio.

At least, until it doesn't, Sinclair's voice suddenly interrupting Comstock after several calls, "Well, sport, it's been a while since last we had a chat! But we best keep this short and sweet, how can I help you folks?" Now Elizabeth turns back to Comstock, listening quietly even though she's still plenty angry; one way or the other, Sinclair's their best chance to figure out what to do next.

"Sinclair, what do you know about Lamb's daughter?" Comstock glances over to Elizabeth quickly, keeping his tone even, "Heard she got turned into a Little Sister, Lamb might be looking for a way to turn her back. Sounds like our best bet to throw her off."

"Now that's something of a surprise." Sinclair sounds surprised, alright, his voice taking a moment longer than usual to come through the radio. "That's one story that should be shared in person. Can you make it up top anytime soon?"

"We're in Pauper's Drop, near your hotel." Stepping close, Elizabeth speaks into the radio before giving Comstock a hard look, lowering her voice to barely above a whisper, "We're not hurting the girl or taking her hostage, Comstock, I don't care that she's Lamb's daughter." Her companion nods slowly, Comstock seeming to prefer not falling on the wrong side of her temper again.

"Pauper's Drop? I don't favor spendin' more than an hour or so down there at a time, but I reckon I can swing by. I'll let the front desk know you're coming; they'll give you the penthouse suite."

* * *

 **Author's Note: Now that they've landed in Pauper's Drop, where else can Elizabeth and Comstock go to try and dig their way out of this hole they've found themselves in? They've hit rock bottom, and while an optimist might say things can't get any worse and can only improve from there, I don't think anyone in the Drop truly believe that. And what will Elizabeth and Comstock do when Sinclair fills them in about Eleanor and her mother?**

 **So it's been a while since my last chapter, and it might be a while till my next one, too. It's a long story, but here's the short version: there was a shakeup at work, a lot of people are having issues right now with the company. Unfortunately, between the fact that I do at least some writing/planning at work and that this has made life much more complicated, new chapters are likely to slow down quite a bit. Hopefully this won't be an issue for long, or that I'll at least be able to get back into writing soon regardless. I'll add a note here should that become the case.**

 **I should have caught any errors in the chapter, but I'll give it the usual next day or so check. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter.**


	15. Dragon's Den

**For new readers, this story is based off of and is tied into several other pieces of mine. If you're not sure where to start, I'd suggest finding Bioshock Infinite: Unbroken, as well as its prequel Unbroken: Song of Sorrow and the continuation Unbroken: I'm Home. The beginning of this story also has roots in chapter five of Those Left Behind. Thanks for checking it out.**

 **Foreword: Well, that was longer than I thought. Okay, so this chapter I spent a while working on, at least when I could, and there might be some bits I need to explain. I'll get to that after the chapter.**

* * *

May 15, 1959, 8:55 PM

"This isn't going to work."

Staring idly through the glass hatch of the bathysphere as the vessel glides through a dark tunnel, the few lights along the way shining on advertisements for Plasmids and genetic therapies, Elizabeth glances sideways to her companion. "If a scanner spots us…" She leaves the rest unsaid, Comstock nodding gravely; the genetic scanners on the turrets and cameras employed by Ryan's forces are only one problem, and both of them are all too aware of the risk they're taking. If anything goes wrong, they're done for, and there's plenty that can go wrong where Elizabeth and Comstock are headed.

"Suppose I should be grateful, at least we aren't trying to sneak into Hephaestus…" Trying to take her mind off what lies ahead, a grimace tugs at Elizabeth's features nonetheless, her thoughts turning instead to what set them on this course in the first place; Sinclair. The meeting in the 'penthouse' with the silver-tongued businessman had been informative, Sinclair filling in the gaps about Sofia Lamb and her daughter. He also brought news of the war and the state of Rapture, something much welcome after hiding and skulking through the underground for so long.

And that's how Elizabeth and Comstock wound up in this bathysphere; there are only two places that may still have what Lamb needs that are even remotely accessible, here, and the Little Wonders Educational Facility in Point Prometheus. "A way to reverse a Little Sister's conditioning, maybe even a cure… Sinclair gave us plenty of answers, alright. But not a one that would help us out." Thinking to herself and bringing a hand up to run her fingers through her hair, Elizabeth stops herself just short and shakes her head instead, "Denying what Lamb needs… maybe it will help us, but is it really… right?"

The bathysphere begins to rise as Elizabeth heaves a heartfelt sigh, the former Lamb of Columbia still in low spirits and plenty conflicted. "How many times have I stepped into a bathysphere since this all began…" Elizabeth gazes around the bathysphere's interior, a touch of regret creeping into her gloomy mood, "If only this were a Stingray… that model would serve passing well as a life raft, if I could get it to the surface…" But this bathysphere is a simple public transport model, the standard issue vessel just continuing on its preprogrammed course while Elizabeth sighs in resignation.

"Never would have figured you as a bathysphere enthusiast, Elizabeth." Comstock remarks, and Elizabeth glances over to find him facing her, though she can barely tell in the dark of the tunnel. "Don't suppose you could get one of those personal bathyspheres running, get us the hell out of this city?"

"I… don't know. Starting up a bathysphere is a little more complicated than picking a lock." Elizabeth adjusts the strap hanging from her left shoulder while considering the question, "If there were controls, I suppose I could manage…" While this is all in theory, Elizabeth is grateful for the distraction, remembering technical journals and hobby magazines she'd whiled away many an hour reading. Even if she has Comstock to thank for the brief distraction. "I wonder how Ryan's 'isolation from the surface' policy accounts for privately owned bathyspheres?"

The bathysphere's journey through the dark comes to an abrupt end, light flooding into the vessel's compartment while water runs in streams down the thick glass of the hatch. Whatever diversion Elizabeth found vanishes with the surfacing of the bathysphere. And that is the moment her shortwave crackles to life. "Well, I reckon the two of you have just about arrived." The voice coming from the radio is muffled by Elizabeth's new satchel, but still unmistakably Sinclair's. "Now, before you step through yonder gates, hold up a spell; I'll wager we won't have another chance once you two get started."

"Okay…" Pulling the radio from her satchel, Elizabeth glances quizzically back at Comstock, her companion shrugging in response. "Are you watching us somehow, Sinclair?"

"Just an educated guess, though I'd be a liar if I said I wouldn't. I'm sticking my neck out for you, darlin', as much as I'm willing. Of course, as I've something to gain in all this, I'm plenty willing and not about to pretend otherwise."

A hint of a lopsided grin tease at the corner of Elizabeth's ruby lips; the silver-tongued Sinclair's unapologetic honesty strikes her as oddly refreshing after her experiences with Rapture's society, even if it is about his self-serving motives. "Now, remember, you two are employees of Sinclair Solutions, so far as anyone over yonder knows. Act like you belong there, and it should be smooth sailing. I… have it on good authority that most of Ryan's automated security measures are down for repairs, but keep an eye out; those disguises should get you through the door, but they won't fool a gene code scanner." Sinclair goes silent, only to speak up again a moment later, "Good luck, darlin'."

"Thanks, Sinclair." Dropping the radio back into her new satchel, Elizabeth takes a slow, deep breath before stepping out into the Metro. Comstock follows suit, and a touch of a frown touches Elizabeth's lips now that they stand in the bluish light of the bathysphere station; her companion's appearance is far too reminiscent of the past.

He wears a gray suit and tie over a white dress shirt and carries a dark brown, leather briefcase, the rest of his own clothing stuffed inside in lieu of documents and files. But what proves most unsettling to Elizabeth is a fake beard that matches his white hair, though it isn't as thick as the Prophet's had been. And Comstock notices her staring, Elizabeth's companion scratching his chin and frowning, "I could do without the beard, myself..."

"Hmph." Turning away, Elizabeth tightens her grip on the deep red strap hanging from her shoulder; she'll just have to put up with it, for the sake of getting past whatever security awaits them. "I'm sure all of Ryan's men know our faces by now." And on that note, Elizabeth touches the black, rectangular-framed glasses that makes up part of her own disguise and checks if her wig is still in place. She wears a deep red, long-sleeved jacket over her now clean and partly mended white blouse, the designer bag of similar color hanging at her side a cross between satchel and purse. She still wears her own heels, skirt and stockings, cleaned up to look presentable but still bearing a scuff here, a tear there.

An auburn wig hides her own dark locks and is tied into a bun. Makeup and assorted other items had been employed in her disguise, most noticeably to change the shape of her nose and give her left cheek a burned, scarred look. All in all, her new clothing looks to have been of designer make, but bear some scuffs and small tears just as her original outfit has; Sinclair mentioned that the imperfections make it all the more believable. Her old canvas satchel rests in the new satchel, Elizabeth finding herself unwilling to just discard it, much to her surprise.

"Well…" Tugging uncomfortably at the tie and shirt's stiff collar, Comstock starts across the blue-green tiled floor and towards the exit, a pair of stylized, barred gates featuring curving designs near the center with a golden R. "Best get to it… guess we'll see if these getups are worth the effort."

"I guess so." Elizabeth mutters quietly while coming up beside Comstock, the apprehension she's been feeling towards their mission growing as the former Lamb and Prophet approach their goal. And as Comstock pushes through the metal gates, Elizabeth can't help but whisper, "Fontaine Futuristics…"

"And, uh… a few guards." Comstock comes to a halt just past the gate, Elizabeth cocking an eyebrow curiously. At least, until he steps around him, Elizabeth's eyes gong wide as she spies just what is giving Comstock pause; a dozen men and women clad in the off-white uniforms of Ryan Security are positioned before the entrance to Fontaine Futuristics, armed and plenty dangerous. And all eyes turn to Elizabeth and Comstock, she able to feel their gaze on her from clear across the room.

The lobby is arranged with two rows of columns forming a path down the middle of the room, and the floor where the entrance to Fontaine Futuristics is slightly raised with a half dozen steps leading down to the rest of the area. A couple of the pillars on either side are connected to form alcoves at about the middle of the room, the only spots where Elizabeth can imagine as decent cover.

"Let's move, they don't look the patient sort. They're looking at us suspiciously enough as is." Despite his brave words, Elizabeth senses a touch of hesitation in Comstock as he steps away. "Wish I hadn't given up my weapons…"

"I don't think a firefight will do us any good…" Struggling to keep her pace steady and voice to a whisper, Elizabeth takes a deep, slow breath to steady her nerves; there's no guarantee that the papers they carry and the appointment Sinclair supposedly arranged will get them past Ryan's' men. Best case scenario should that happen, they're turned away. Worst case… Elizabeth shakes her head, refusing to picture that end.

The lobby is quiet as they make their way across, only the sound of her heels on the blue-gray tile with wavy gold patterns breaking the silence. The guards watch them without saying a word. And the silence goes on until Elizabeth steps in front of the left alcove, the prerecorded jingle and laugh of a Circus of Values vending machine catching her by surprise. She very nearly jumps out of her skin, and the soldiers chuckle at her surprise.

"This is a restricted area, state your business." One of the guards at the top of the steps holds a gloved hand up to stop them, a large crossbow with a strange, deadly looking bolt resting in his other hand. Something about the crossbow gives Elizabeth the oddest sense of déjà vu.

"We're representative of Sinclair Solutions." Comstock answers without missing a beat, taking a folded set of papers from his shirt pocket and handing it to the guard, Zachary Cuthbert. Product integration and testing."

The soldier doesn't bother unfolding the paper yet, instead turning his gaze to Elizabeth. "Anna. Anna Devlin." Giving the soldier a small grin, Elizabeth manages to slip into her role even as she mentally shakes her head at the coincidence, "Sinclair Solutions' 'Consumer Rewards Program' coordinator and logistics."

"Hmm…" The armed guard glances back and forth between them while the dozen of his equally armed coworkers look on, seemingly gauging whether or not Elizabeth and Comstock are genuine. A quick flip through the papers does move things along, but not by much. "You two have any weapons to declare?"

"Just a pistol."

Elizabeth blinks; did Comstock really just say that? He'd been more than a little cross, leaving his Thompson and shotgun behind, but there was no helping that. He still has his knife on him, but what could have possessed Comstock to volunteer that information?

"Huh. Packing light, aren't ya? Especially these days…" A shrug is all Comstock answers the guard with, retrieving the revolver from his briefcase and holding it towards the other man. But the guard just waves his hand dismissively. "Keep it, doubt-"

The double doors beyond the guards suddenly part, and a man in a lavender suit and slicked back, brown hair steps out. "Excuse me, but has Dr. Alexander's nine-thirty arrived?" His gaze immediately finds Elizabeth and Comstock, "Let them through, quickly; Dr. Alexander is nearly finished for the day, he mustn't be kept waiting."

The soldier glances down at the papers again before turning his goggled gaze to Elizabeth, and she gets the sense that he's scowling. Ryan's thug stares at her as if trying to see through her, or maybe he's trying to recall something from long ago that's on the tip of his tongue. And Elizabeth suddenly feels self-conscious; she's already been recognized once as Sander Cohen's disciple, and despite her disguise, Elizabeth begins to fear it will happen again. But if some revelation comes to the uniformed guard, he doesn't let anyone in on it, "Okay, go on it." He turns away with a shrug.

Nodding her head, Elizabeth steps past the soldiers with Comstock right beside her. And it takes a great deal of self-control to keep her pace to a casual stroll, or to resist the urge to sigh with relief. Every instinct Elizabeth has is telling her to get the hell out of there. But she can't drop the act now, Elizabeth giving the man in lavender a polite smile as they come up to him, though she can't help but notice his face looks a touch like a hawk's. "Thank you for that. I'm Anna Devlin, this is my companion, Zachary Cuthbert."

"Dr. Alexander is expecting you, Ms. Devlin, Mr. Cuthbert. You may call me Sarteur, the doctor's… clerical assistant." Sarteur turns on his heels and pushes through the opaque, white glass double doors, leaving Elizabeth with a vague implication to follow, as well as a notion to privately refer to the man as Mr. Lavender. Comstock, on the other hand, seems entirely unamused by Mr. Lavender.

"Stuffed shirt…"

"True." Elizabeth chuckles softly, and briefly considers sharing the nickname for the stuffed shirt. But she just shakes her head and takes a deep breath before stepping up to the doors, glancing back at Comstock and shrugging slightly, "No turning back now, right?" Somehow, meeting the unpleasant Mr. Lavender had broken the tension, Elizabeth's confidence slowly returning.

"Yeah…" Moving to join her at the door, Comstock gives her a sideways glance, "You sure about this, Elizabeth? I can do this alone."

On any other day, Elizabeth would've snapped at Comstock, thinking his show of concern another shallow act. But not today, "I'm fine, Comstock. Let's go…"

"Mr. Cuthbert, Ms. Devlin!" Mr. Lavender's shout draws an exasperated sigh from Comstock, Elizabeth shaking her head and grinning slightly; maybe it's not the secretary, but Comstock's reaction to him that's set her at ease, if only slightly.

* * *

9:30 PM

As it turns out, the bathysphere brought Elizabeth and Comstock to the fourth floor of Fontaine Futuristics, the entrance they came through putting them amid a mess of offices. The same tile that makes up the flooring of the lobby is present here as well, and the walls are paneled wood with a darker, patterned strip along the bottom. A central stairwell leads to the lower floors, and there are a number of men and women roaming the halls of Fontaine Futuristics. There is also a camera and turret being worked on by maintenance crews, obviously inactive but still something Elizabeth would care to avoid.

Mr. Lavender leads them to the largest of the offices, muffled voices coming from beyond the wooden door. "Dr. Alexander will see you in a moment, he seems to have an unscheduled appointment with one of his… colleagues." The expression the pompous secretary wears gives nothing away, but Elizabeth catches a hint of scorn in the man's voice. "You may enter at your convenience."

"Thank you, Mr…" Elizabeth has to stop herself from calling the man 'Mr. Lavender', and she just nods slowly. Comstock doesn't pay the man any mind, brushing past him and pushing through the door, Elizabeth following a step behind.

"Dr. Sperling, I appreciate your passion, but we simply do not have the resources to mount a retrieval operation at this time." A short man in a suit with a narrow black mustache and tidy hair stands behind a large, dark wood desk, arguing with another in a lab coat, the second man sporting disheveled blonde hair and looking to have skipped shaving for a few days.

"Gil! Suchong's machine is just… rusting away in that restaurant he built it in, who knows what wonders he invented before his death? He left almost no documentation on this device, so he was definitely keeping this secret to himself… this could change the world, more than ADAM ever did! This… portal technology, from what little I could glean from Suchong's coded notes…"

Elizabeth's jaw nearly drops, the conversation suddenly sounding all too familiar to her. "A Lutece Device…? No… how could Suchong have built something like that? I... oh no…" She suddenly gets that feeling of déjà vu again, and her head begins to swim for a moment. "This is my… our…?"

"The answer is no, doctor. I understand that your division is feeling underappreciated, but the department store is entirely lawless." Dr. Alexander takes his seat and folds his arms, staring impassively back at the other doctor.

"Then what about our weapons project?" The disheveled man leans forward and rests his fists on the desk, "All our active products were lost when Minerva's Den went into lockdown, but we still have the prototype, and it's nearly complete. If I could just get back into that wing, and then we'll be able to restart the Lancer program…"

"Enough, doctor." Waving the man away, Dr. Alexander closes his eyes and rubs the bridge of his nose, "We shall continue this another day. I have an appointment, and they have just arrived." The disheveled man looks back and scowls at Elizabeth and Comstock, only pushing away from the desk and storming out of the office after giving Dr. Alexander another long, hard look. "My apologies, Dr. Sperling is quite passionate, but unrealistic."

"No apologies necessary." Giving him the best smile she can manage after hearing about what may be a Lutece Device, Elizabeth moves across the office and offers Dr. Alexander her hand, "Anna Devlin. This is Zachary Cuthbert."

"Pleased to meet you both. Dr. Gilbert Alexander. I understand you are from Sinclair Solutions, yes? We at Fontaine Futuristics are pleased to continue our relationship with your company, it has been most productive." Shaking hers and Comstock's hand, Dr. Alexander nods politely, though Elizabeth almost forgets to return the shake; Alexander's statement about Fontaine Futuristics' relationship with Sinclair's company piques her curiosity. "I understand you are here to observe the new Plasmid line we will be sending to your company. Perhaps a tour would be in order?"

"Great." Comstock answers quickly, glancing sideways at Elizabeth as he takes the lead, "We'd like to see the production, testing, and material storage for your Plasmids."

"Of course, Mr. Cuthbert." Nodding, Dr. Alexander steps out from behind his desk and ushers them towards the door, "Come, there is much to show."

Dr. Alexander leads Elizabeth and Comstock downstairs, the other employees paying them no mind, and the trio quickly pass through Finances and Marketing. And their guide spends the entire time telling them bits and pieces about the building and company. "So Fontaine Futuristics used to be connected to the rest of Rapture by the Atlantic Express? When was the bathysphere station built?"

"Shortly before the railway was shut down, fortunately. It was decided that the Metro should be built on the top floor by the previous owner, Mr. Fontaine."

"Ah…" A frown tugs at Elizabeth's lips as she falls silent; Frank Fontaine was already dead by the time she arrived in Rapture, Elizabeth only knowing of his reputation as a ruthless businessman and criminal from the people she's met and Ryan's propaganda. But something tells her she wouldn't have wanted to meet the man in any way. "Sinclair had dealings with this company… so he had dealings with Fontaine, as well as Ryan. I suppose he's been working with Ryan and his competitors all this time…"

There's music playing over a PA system, and a new song begins just as the trio reach the first floor. And Elizabeth comes to a stop as she hears her own voice, the song she recorded and performed stirring feelings and memories from what feels like a lifetime ago. Comstock stops as well, and Dr. Alexander takes note of their reaction, "Ah, a lovely tune, that one. Are you familiar with it?"

"You… you could say that…" Elizabeth closes her eyes for a moment and adjusts her glasses, moving her feet once the moment's passed. Still, she notices a small grin on Comstock's face, and she just nods quickly. The song evokes feelings of heartache in Elizabeth, despite her belief that she's a mere copy, and she doesn't much care to show it to either Comstock or Dr. Alexander.

Passing through an archway and beneath a sign reading 'Plasmid Showroom', Elizabeth and the others come out into what looks to be a theater, a number of seats facing a wooden stage with protective glass between them. "This is Frank Fontaine's Plasmid Spectacular Theatre. A bit ostentatious, the name, but it is where we demonstrate our products. Our destination is just through the door in the back, though we will have to take the employee entrance to our left."

"Perfect." Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth tries to keep calm and focused; their goal is nearly in sight, and their plan has gone off without a hitch. "So… why do I have a bad feeling about this place…?" Maybe it's the fact that this place was involved with the Big Daddy and Little Sister programs, or the thought of how they actually test these Plasmids, but Elizabeth tries to keep her thoughts focused on the job at hand. Elizabeth keeps her worries to herself, following Dr. Alexander into the theater quietly.

That is, until a tremor runs through the building, and shouting comes from the direction of the main entrance. Gunfire follows along with the sound of more explosions and screams. But one voice cuts through the din, Elizabeth catching sight of a man clad in a Ryan Security uniform running into the theatre. "It's a raid! Atlas and his bandits are attacking!" Dr. Alexander visibly pales, and many of the employees begin to panic as the guard returns to the entrance, several more appearing from different parts of the building and rushing to join the fight.

"Atlas…" A shudder run through Elizabeth along with another bout of déjà vu striking. She remembers what Ryan had said while she was his prisoner, that Atlas had tried to murder the other Elizabeth, a claim supported when some of the so-called revolutionary's men attacked them in Neptune's Bounty. "Dr. Alexander, we need to go, now! Is there someplace we can hide?"

"Y-yes… deeper into the lab, the repository. It's kept cold and dark, and we store mostly materials in there, not ADAM… at least, not the sort Splicers would kill for." Elizabeth glances over to Comstock, her companion nodding quickly.

"Alright, guess it's settled. Doctor, would you mind leading the way?"

* * *

 **Author's Note: So Elizabeth and Comstock managed to talk their way into Fontaine Futuristics, and now it's old owner's come calling, trapping the disguised pair between Ryan's people and Atlas. Will they be able to avoid being found out by either side, and find some means of escape? Or are they going to get caught up in the fighting, where it doesn't matter who the victor is? Fontaine Futuristics is the seed from which all the madness caused by ADAM sprouted, with many secrets hidden on these grounds, perhaps there's something in the labs that will help them.**

 **Now, the labs I mentioned in the back of the theater are through a door that is blocked off in Bioshock 2, next to the Vita-Chamber. I figure there has to be more than what was shown of the place, someplace to make the Plasmids (the lab seen in the game is described as a mock lab for demonstrations, after all), and behind the theater felt like the most likely place. And as for the bathysphere station, once the Atlantic Express was shut down, there had to be some way to get to Fontaine Futuristics, given the production of the Rumbler and Lancer. Given the 3rd and 4th floor of the building were completely inaccessible... I think you can see where I'm going with this.**

 **Anyway, after I returned from my trip I got sick, and it was problematic enough with my work schedule that I had difficulty getting any writing done. Hopefully now that I'm (mostly) recovered, I can get back to somewhat regular updates. Now, I've looked over the chapter a few times for spelling errors and inconsistencies, and I should have caught most of them, but I'll take another look at a later date when my eyes are fresh.**

 **Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter.**


	16. Deep Into That Darkness Peering

**For new readers, this story is based off of and is tied into several other pieces of mine. If you're not sure where to start, I'd suggest finding Bioshock Infinite: Unbroken, as well as its prequel Unbroken: Song of Sorrow and the continuation Unbroken: I'm Home. The beginning of this story also has roots in chapter five of Those Left Behind. Thanks for checking it out.**

 **There is now a timeline of sorts for the various chapters on my profile page, just an attempt to make it a little easier to see what happens when in relation to other chapters.**

* * *

May 15, 1959, 9:58 PM

"I've had quite enough of… of the cold…"

Shivering, Elizabeth mumbles softly to herself as she crouches behind a heavily laden shelf, her breath swirling like fog before her eyes. The depository is just as Dr. Alexander had described, the temperature uncomfortably close to freezing. There is light enough to maneuver through the rows that the room is divided into, courtesy of dim neon tubes in the ceiling, but not enough to easily read the small print of the labels on the boxes and shelves.

"With any luck, we should be safe now." Dr. Alexander whispers, though just a touch louder than Elizabeth is comfortable with, "There is little that would interest Atlas or his bandits here. I fear I cannot say the same of the laboratory." The doctor is seated on the floor to Elizabeth's left, though he's mostly obscured by Comstock kneeling between them.

"Won't matter if somebody hears us." Even in the dim lighting, Elizabeth spots the glare Comstock gives the doctor, "Best keep it down, doctor; we're scotched if they make us."

Despite herself, Elizabeth nods slowly in agreement as Dr. Alexander shrinks away from her companion; the depository's only exit leads out into the Plasmid lab, from where the only exit is back to the Plasmid showcase theatre, essentially one long dead-end. And with the sounds of fighting outside growing louder, Elizabeth can only imagine that Atlas' bandits are pushing Ryan's men back. Her best guess places the gunfire and shouts as coming from just outside the theatre.

Another shiver runs through Elizabeth, and she pulls her deep red jacket tighter around her body. "Well, I suppose we got what we wanted, with no one the wiser… but does this strike you as good news?" Nudging Comstock with her elbow, Elizabeth whispers quietly as her 'co-worker' turns to her, "We could have run for the bathyspheres and gotten well clear of all this."

"We got a job to do, Ms. Devlin," Elizabeth cocks an eyebrow at Comstock's use of her assumed name, "doesn't matter when… and we'll have a hell of a time talking our way in when Ryan puts this place on lockdown."

Elizabeth heaves a long, quiet sigh, another short-lived plume of fog appearing in the frigid air, "Alright, that's a fair point… the station is probably jammed with employees, anyway. Still, gotta find the materials and get out, somehow… this job's getting worse all the time."

"Yeah."

Bleak silence descends on Elizabeth and Comstock as the pair settles in to wait, the only sound in the frigid depository coming from the not-so-distant battle. Dr. Alexander, on the other hand, isn't near as calm; every burst of gunfire and scream causes him to jump slightly, the scientist nervously wringing his hands the rest of the time. A touch amusing to watch, but Elizabeth finds her attention leaving the doctor as the minutes stretch on.

"One chemical and two compounds, the first is…" Thinking to herself, Elizabeth closes her eyes and silently recites the chemical formulae Sinclair mentioned; repeating the complicated names from time to time seems to help in keeping them memorized. "I'll have to slip away once it's safe, find them while Comstock keeps the doctor busy… something tells me I have my work cut out for me…"

"Mr. Cuthbert, Ms. Devlin…" Dr. Alexander suddenly speaks up, Elizabeth looking over to find him awkwardly climbing to his feet, "Do you hear that?"

Now that he mentions it, Elizabeth doesn't; the commotion outside has disappeared. No gunfire, not even the sound of a lone gunshot reaches them, and Elizabeth can only think of two reasons as she and Comstock share a worried look. "Either the battle has moved far enough away, or…"

"Or it's over." Drawing his small revolver, Comstock pulls back the hammer slowly until a faint 'click' sounds. "Doctor, you best be right that there's nothing in here worth a damn to Atlas."

It doesn't take long for footsteps and voices to appear in the distance, the sounds growing louder with each passing moment. One in particular stands out; a man's voice that bears a distinctive brogue. And Elizabeth's nearly overwhelmed by a powerful sense of déjà vu once she discerns the accent, the feeling strong enough that she need steady herself against the shelf behind her.

"That's… Atlas…" Elizabeth can hear a gulp come from Alexander as she whispers.

"Grab anything of value; Plasmids, Tonics, whatever ADAM you can get your hands on. No telling when Ryan's goons will be back, and I mean for us to be gone long before then. You three start in here; the rest of us will sweep the offices upstairs."

"Got it, boss."

"Put a bullet in anyone giving you trouble; we don't have time to deal with heroes. But if you find that weasel Gil, bring him to me. I've got me some questions that need answering."

Even in the shadows, Elizabeth can't miss Dr. Alexander's face going pale, the scientist's nervousness turning to genuine fear. "Wh-wh-what are-?"

"Quiet!" A hiss from Comstock silences the doctor, and just in time; the door of the depository opens with a metallic 'clunk', light flooding into the dark, cold room. Keeping stock-still, Elizabeth doesn't dare breathe as quiet footsteps announce the entrance of one of Atlas' followers, though she does notice Comstock shooting a glare at Gilbert; so much for 'no reason to come in here'.

"… hundreds in here… thousands…" The footsteps are replaced by quiet, near incomprehensible conversation, whoever has stepped into the depository coming to a stop, "… gone before Atlas gets back… last resort… names again?" A second voice speaks up just enough for Elizabeth to make out bits and pieces, but what she hears causes her jaw to drop in surprise; it sounds like they're hunting for the same compounds!

Footsteps mark the departure of Atlas' men, leaving the depository door wide open as they go, and Elizabeth slowly turns her gaze to Dr. Alexander. "Thank heavens…" The doctor heaves an extraordinarily relieved sigh, taking out a handkerchief and dabbing at his forehead despite the chill, "I feared the worst… and I don't care to imagine what Atlas wants of me."

"What would Atlas want with the chemicals those men are looking for?" Still keeping his voice low, Comstock manages to sound threatening all the same as he rounds on Gilbert, "Those folks don't sound like bandits set on stealing anything valuable; they came in here with a purpose."

"No need to threaten, Mr. Cuthbert; the compounds those hooligans seek are simply part of a Little Sister's mental conditioning procedure."

The blunt, matter-of-fact manner in which the doctor answers Comstock draws a flash of anger from Elizabeth, and she grits her teeth to keep from lashing out at the mustached scientist. But Dr. Alexander isn't done, "What I do not understand is why. What use could Atlas have for them? There are no longer enough suitable 'candidates', and without the implantation of a sea slug and the physical conditioning… the result would be quite worthless."

"Enough!"

Comstock grabs the doctor by the collar and pins him back against the shelf just as Elizabeth is about to snap, the anger in his barely restrained voice echoing her own. Fear reappears in Alexander's eyes, and Elizabeth can only imagine the look on Comstock's face as he brandishes his revolver before the helpless doctor, "You're talking about _children_ , someone's little girl! Stealing them from their homes, putting them through your 'procedures'…"

He falls silent for a moment, seemingly searching for the words, and Elizabeth can't help but appreciate the irony. Finally, Comstock speaks again, a hint of resignation in his voice as he releases Alexander, "Nothing about Little Sisters should be spoken of lightly."

"Sally…" Drawing her legs up to her chest as the name comes to her unbidden, Elizabeth crosses her arms on her knees and rests her forehead on them; she hasn't thought about the Little Sister since Market Street and the facility there, but she must have been on Comstock's mind for the former Prophet to react so. "He's still a hypocrite, but… he genuinely wanted to help the poor girl…"

"I must say, I'm surprised…" Alexander speaks up slowly, still keeping his voice low and rubbing his throat as he does, "You work for Sinclair, Mr. Cuthbert; surely you are aware of his involvement in the Protector program?"

"Our… work, has more to do with his Plasmid business, doctor." She's still angry with the doctor's callousness, and all Elizabeth wants to do right now is get away from him.

"I…" Glancing at Comstock nervously, "I empathize with the girls, but they are quite necessary. We do our best to ensure…"

"I can't listen to this," leaning a touch closer to Comstock, Elizabeth whispers quietly so as not to be overheard, "I'm going to start looking…"

Comstock nods slowly, then turns to look Elizabeth in the eye before she moves away. "Be careful, Anna.

"I… I will." Slipping away while Comstock distracts the doctor, Elizabeth can't help but feel a touch disturbed; even though it's her cover name, hearing Comstock call her 'Anna' in Booker's voice dredges up feelings of longing and homesickness. "No, I don't have a home… and never did…" Shaking her head, Elizabeth pushes the feelings aside, "Doesn't matter; focus on the job at hand…" The last she hears before creeping out of earshot is Comstock asking about a way out, with Dr. Alexander's response too quiet for Elizabeth to hear.

The search is slow and tedious, Elizabeth stealing down the rows and having to squint to read the labels on the containers. Some are written in simple English, but many more are labeled with chemical formulae or some other form of esoteric shorthand; while she can make sense of the shorthand, deciphering them while constantly looking over her shoulder doesn't help to speed up the process one bit.

As such, Elizabeth counts her blessings when she finds two of the sought after materials side by side, each a small, padded box with several samples each nestled inside.

"Two down, one to go… suppose I can just pour them out before moving on…" Taking the containers from the shelf and setting them on the floor, Elizabeth allows herself a moment to stand and stretch, all of this sneaking around leaving her body a touch stiff. "Ah… okay, now…"

She doesn't get to finish; something that feels like a vice grip clamps around her throat, the attack coming out of nowhere and pulling Elizabeth back against the shelf as if she weighs nothing at all.

"Ghk… ah!" Fighting to break free, Elizabeth finds powerful fingers wrapped around her throat, her assailant holding her with one hand connected to a muscular arm that comes from the gap she left in the shelf. And no matter how hard she pulls or claws at the digits, her attacker's grip holds firm; it's a struggle just to breathe, and Elizabeth can utter little more than mewling, whimpering gasps.

"Shh… sorry, girl, it's just business, y'know? C'mon, go to sleep, that's it…"

The whispering voice sounds strangely familiar, but Elizabeth can't focus; her vision is already swimming, her head pounding something fierce. The rational, learned part of her mind recognizes what's happening, that her attacker's grip is cutting into the blood flow to her brain, but she's barely aware of it; her survival instincts kick in, the animal part of her mind in control now.

Kicking, hitting and twisting around, Elizabeth desperately tries anything and everything to break free or at least call for help, but to no avail; her assailant just holds her fast against the shelf, whispering something she can no longer make out. Fighting tooth and nail, Elizabeth's strength fades quickly, and she's soon slumping exhausted against the shelf as her world slides into darkness.

* * *

A pounding headache welcomes Elizabeth back to the waking world, her mind groggy and thoughts disjointed. "… nh… wh… where….?" It's hard to focus through the headache and feeling lightheaded, and Elizabeth needs several moments to collect her thoughts and calmly take stock of her situation.

"Okay, first, the good news; I'm not dead. Whoever had me could have changed that, but didn't… why?" Thinking slowly as her groggy mind clears, Elizabeth focuses on her other senses while keeping her eyes closed and breathing steady: she's seated on something cold and hard, likely the floor with how her legs are stretched out ahead of her; her arms are held behind her back while someone with soft, slender fingers wraps something thin and rough around them; there is a crick in her neck, not as painful as where she was throttled but unpleasant all the same; and two others exchange words quietly nearby, one immediately to her right while the other is somewhere in front of her. She feels another sense of déjà vu, but her thoughts aren't collected enough to sort it out or wonder why.

"…oh? Orrin, I think she's coming to." The slender fingers stop suddenly, a woman's voice coming from behind Elizabeth. The name she utters sounds familiar, but Elizabeth can't place it in her addled state.

The woman's hands move from Elizabeth's wrists to her shoulders and eases her upper body back some, her position becoming slightly less uncomfortable as a result. The man to her right steps closer, and only then does Elizabeth realize her head has been hanging all this time.

"That explains the crick in my neck…" Opening her eyes and lifting her head, it takes Elizabeth a second to place where she is and recognize Orrin. "Arcadia. You work for Lamb…" The balding man nods as he crouches in front of Elizabeth, peering back at her intently. "So… why…?"

"We're with Atlas, but only until Lamb makes good on our bargain. Bringing you here was the White Knight's doing." Orrin gestures behind to the other man, James if Elizabeth recalls correctly; the big man appears no more spliced than in Arcadia, and doesn't seem as volatile, either. He keeps stealing glances back at Elizabeth, the sailor casually holding some sort of jury-rigged weapon in hand, essentially a tank with a nozzle, hoses and a socket wrench for a lever. In a way, it looks like a giant champagne bottle. "I never realized we were in competition with a celebrity, Ms. Comstock."

That gets her attention, Elizabeth focusing on Orrin just as he holds up her auburn wig and glasses. "C'mon, Orrin, y'know it wouldn't sit well, leaving her for Atlas to find like that." A scowl crosses James' features, Orrin chuckling in return, "Atlas has his people on the lookout for you and DeWitt, Miss. Figured he'd find you when he comes looking for us…"

"James wouldn't want your blood on his hands." Orrin finishes quickly, still smirking as he looks back to Elizabeth, "What the White Knight and Catherine fail to mention is that they were fans of yours, before the war."

"I don't know if I would go that far, Orrin…" The woman's voice sounds a touch reluctant, "We have what we need, Miss Elizabeth's awake, let's get out of here."

"Get out?" Looking around, Elizabeth can't help but wonder; they are in the laboratory, in one of several side rooms separated from the rest only by a partition of a glass wall and door. There are shelves lining the gray tiled walls, a table with equipment on it and three of the depository's boxes resting on the floor, but that's all. "They found the rest… if I could just aim, I could Incinerate the whole… wait, how long have I been out? Where's…?"

"So, Miss Comstock; where is your partner? The White Knight found you alone… not that it matters; we'll be safely on our way in a moment." James snorts as Orrin calls him 'The White Knight' again, the sailor looking none too pleased with the nickname. The balding man either doesn't notice or doesn't care, instead climbing to his feet and moving to the wall behind Elizabeth.

"More importantly…" Taking a breath, Elizabeth tries to change the subject while her mind races, looking for an opportunity to escape and hoping Comstock realizes that something's gone wrong, "What do you mean to do with me? I'm guessing… huh?" A 'click' comes from behind Elizabeth, followed by a quiet rumble. "What in the world…?"

Catherine's hands move to hook under her arms and help Elizabeth to her feet, the woman almost gentle but clearly in a rush. "It will be alright, Miss. Sorry, but we have to keep you tied up, at least until… um, you understand, right?" Elizabeth feels fingers on her bound wrists again, lightly tugging on the ropes.

Turning to look the woman in the eye, Elizabeth gives her a slow nod, though she's more interested in what is happening behind Catherine; the back wall has split down the middle and is swinging outward, revealing a dark hallway with steps leading down. More déjà vu, Elizabeth furrowing her brow and trying to recall what's causing it. "A secret door… Abigail said the other… the 'real' Elizabeth used one in Suchong's clinic, near the end…"

"What're you mumbling about?" James steps past Elizabeth while giving her a curious look, but he stops suddenly just before stepping through the secret door. "… hear that? Time to go."

"Lead the way, White Knight. I trust the fighting has resumed?" Orrin steps over to the hidden passage with the containers under his arms, the older, balding man motioning for Elizabeth and Catherine to go first with a flourish, "After you, ladies."

"Great…" Frowning, Elizabeth walks through the secret door with Catherine gently holding her by her left arm, probably to keep her from bolting as well as keep her from falling while her wrists are bound behind her back. "Might have had a chance if it was just Catherine, but getting past Orrin, too…"

Climbing down the steps, Elizabeth begins to hear whatever James had picked up on at the top; sporadic gunfire and the occasional rumble, as if something is exploding in the building, and the sounds grow louder as they go. "Doesn't matter..." Shaking her head, Elizabeth puts it from her mind, focusing on escape and possibly destroying her captors' prizes. She doesn't have long to plan, though, the group arriving at the bottom a couple minutes later.

She stands in what looks like a small, dusty tram station, flickering lights revealing three roofless tram cars sitting on a track across from the steps. The first has three rows of seats while the other two look to be for cargo, though Elizabeth does notice they're large enough for a person to be laid flat in. There's something about the tram and the tunnel ahead of it that fills Elizabeth with dread.

"Next stop, topside!" James chuckles as the group approaches the tram. "If Lamb is good…"

A deafening, guttural roar splits the air, and a baleful red light floods the tram station. "No… not again! Orrin, it's…!" An explosion cuts Catherine off, the woman stumbling away from Elizabeth and Orrin hitting the floor by her feet. And Elizabeth just turns slowly, somehow calm despite what she knows she will find.

"Gamma." Elizabeth can hear the resignation in her voice as she lays eyes on the armored behemoth, the Gatling gun wielding Big Daddy blocking the steps up, and she's reminded of when Songbird finally took her from Booker in Columbia. The thought sends a shudder through her body. "So, this is it, huh? No more running…" But something catches Elizabeth's eye; movement behind the Big Daddy, a flash of white and a glint in the dark.

"Hey, Tin Daddy! Time for round two!" Heat explodes to Elizabeth's left, a gout of liquid flame surging past and engulfing the armored giant. Gamma feral roar shakes the tram station, and Elizabeth snaps out of her shock as the Big Daddy starts pushing through the flaming stream.

"Elizabeth!"

"C-Comstock?!" Backpedaling from James and Gamma, Elizabeth nearly falls backwards into the tram as Comstock calls her name, the former Prophet dashing out from behind the Big Daddy and making a beeline for her. "You came for me?" Relief washes away the hopelessness and brings a tear to Elizabeth's eye; she might just hug the man, if her arms weren't tied behind her back. "T-The boxes! Orrin has the compounds, we can't let-"

"No! That's _our_ golden ticket!" The report of a revolver barely rises above the roars of the Big Daddy and the flames, Orrin firing at Comstock as the former Prophet passes him.

What comes next is a blur to Elizabeth. Comstock grunts in pain, stumbling as he grabs at his right leg. Gamma's Gatling gun begins to fire, forcing James to dive out of the way. Catherine falls to the ground and tries to scramble away from the fight, unable to take her eyes from the flaming Big Daddy. And Orrin takes aim at Comstock, protecting the chemical and compound containers with his body.

ADAM-born flames come to life on Elizabeth's fingers, the former Lamb of Columbia turning her Plasmid on ropes binding her wrists and gritting her teeth as the fire licks at her skin. Incinerate makes quick work of her bonds, and Elizabeth brings her hand around as another gunshot rings out, "Hey, Orrin!"

With a snap of her fingers, fire explodes against Orrin, enveloping him in an instant and sending the balding man rolling across the floor. Another snap sets the containers alight, Elizabeth hoping that's enough to do the job. "Comstock, are you alr-gah!"

Something large and solid slams into Elizabeth as she looks for Comstock, knocking her off her feet. But as much as the impact hurts, it pales in comparison to what comes next; her right leg catches something on the way down, twisting her ankle, and she lands with a solid bar digging into her back. Her right elbow hits something metal as well, sending waves of agony throughout her body.

Writhing in pain, all Elizabeth can do is screw her eyes shut, grit her teeth and try to bear it, cradling her arm to her chest and sliding off the bar across her back. It feels an eternity before she can breathe again, Elizabeth gasping with pain once the worst of the agony is past. "S-son of a…"

"Elizabeth!"

Comstock's distant, panicked voice causes her eyes to snap open, and Elizabeth sits up quickly, though she regrets it as her battered body protests. "Oh no…" Darkness surround Elizabeth as wind whips by her, the trundle and squeal of rusted wheels filling her ears. "The tram… I must have… must have started it when I fell…"

But barreling out of control towards the unknown, alone and in the dark, is only the start of it; a dim red light briefly casts the tunnel in shadows, and Elizabeth reluctantly glances back. "Not again…" A glowing red dot in the distance announces the Big Daddy's pursuit, though it quickly disappears as the tram takes a turn. "Fine... come after me if you want. I'm not going to make it easy, you son of a bitch."

* * *

"Elizabeth…"

Comstock limps over to the tram tunnel, the station still and nearly silent in Gamma's passing. The trio that took Elizabeth are themselves limping back up the steps, both of the men sporting serious wounds and being helped up by the woman, an air of defeat hanging heavily about them.

It all happened so fast; Gamma's drill caught the big man in the side and sent him flying into Elizabeth, and the tram came to life as she crashed down onto it. Even if he didn't have a bullet in his leg, there's no way Comstock could keep up with the tram or the Big Daddy.

"You happy with your creation, doctor?" Turning to the station's exit, Comstock rips off his fake beard as he lays eyes on Dr. Alexander; the scientist witnessed it all, and now Comstock is going to get some answers, "Where's Elizabeth? Where does this tunnel lead, dammit?!"

"… the original ADAM laboratory, from when ADAM research was still… in its infancy. Sir, what do you intend…?" Comstock doesn't answer, his gaze fixed on the doctor as he limps closer. "Um… I can patch up your wound, and the tram will return, but… you have little chance in a direct confrontation with Gamma. You are only one man, with hardly any splicing that I can see."

"Not with a revolver." Stepping close so he's toe-to-toe with the doctor, Comstock stares unblinkingly down at Alexander, "So you are going to even the odds, or I'm going to do to you what I did to Suchong. He lasted fifteen hours before I was satisfied, doctor, but I don't have that kind of time." The smaller man turns white as a sheet as Comstock's hand comes down on his shoulder, Shock Jockey crystals growing from the former Prophet's skin.

* * *

 **Author's Note: I know the hidden facility behind Fontaine Futuristics is supposed to be the real ADAM and Plasmid labs, but the place always struck me as designed entirely around Big Daddy work. Hence, the lab tucked away behind the Plasmid showcase, and the older lab for when ADAM was first being researched; knowing Fontaine, I would expect him to try and keep it secret as long as possible, particularly with the unsavory aspects that must have come along with the initial research. And now Elizabeth's headed there, all on her own.**

 **I didn't mention it in the chapter, but Elizabeth still has her bag with her, including her radio. And finally, what exactly do you think Comstock means when he tells Gilbert to 'even the odds'?**

 **I'll be checking the chapter again for errors sometime tomorrow, and while I think I caught the most glaring ones, feel free to point out anything inconsistent or confusing. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter.**


	17. Here There Be Monsters

**For new readers, this story is based off of and is tied into several other pieces of mine. If you're not sure where to start, I'd suggest finding Bioshock Infinite: Unbroken, as well as its prequel Unbroken: Song of Sorrow and the continuation Unbroken: I'm Home. The beginning of this story also has roots in chapter five of Those Left Behind. Thanks for checking it out.**

 **There is now a timeline of sorts for the various chapters on my profile page, just an attempt to make it a little easier to see what happens when in relation to other chapters.**

* * *

The arrival of the tram is greeted by dim lights flickering to life, courtesy of bare light bulbs hanging from the ceiling by thin, frayed wires. While the tiled platform and tram tunnel are both made of concrete, the walls and ceiling here are solid stone, roughly hewn to create this small cavern without any consideration for aesthetics.

Further emphasizing the rough, utilitarian design are the metal girders and beams that support the roof, as well as exposed brass pipes that run along, across and out of every surface; the only exceptions to this roughshod look are a couple of rooms, really just sheds built of rusting metal and aging wood, and the cracked stone tile that makes up the floor. Several tunnels lead out of this cave-like chamber, and Elizabeth spots a number of old, rotting gurneys in a pile against the far wall.

Rising as the tram comes to a stop on a turnaround, Elizabeth carefully steps out of the car, gingerly testing her twisted right ankle before putting any measure of weight on it. "Well, here I am… now where am I supposed to go…?" Elizabeth leaves her disguise behind on the tram, the jacket, wig, glasses and bag having served their purpose; she only carries her satchel and radio, as well as a couple Pep Bars and a bottle of water. "Stale air, dusty… and silent as a tomb. Hell of a place for a last stand… huh? Where did this come from…?"

At the bottom of a handful of steps that lead off the tram platform stands a small, plastic pedestal table, conspicuously placed in Elizabeth's path and catching her eye for two more reasons: first, the table lacks the layer of dust the rest of this chamber seems to be covered with; and second, the glowing bottle, hypo and place card that sit on its surface.

"For your health." Picking up the place card and reading it aloud, Elizabeth's eyes narrow suspiciously; this has to be the Luteces doing. No one else would help like this, but why now?

"And it had to be a Plasmid…" Setting down the place card and picking up the hypo, Elizabeth eyes the syringe before inserting it into the Plasmid bottle, memories of Comstock House stirring. "Never wanted to do this again, but," filling the hypo, Elizabeth rolls up her sleeve and takes a deep breath before placing the syringe against her skin, "best take all the help I can get… agh!"

The pain of the needle draws a shudder and hiss of pain from Elizabeth, but what comes next surprises the former Lamb of Columbia; while pain still wracks her body as the Plasmid does its work, it isn't the burning agony she experienced with Incinerate. "Target Dummy?" The moment the pain subsides, Elizabeth grabs onto the table to keep from falling, and she gasps for air while the mental images that detail the Plasmid's workings flash by. "I guess… it gets easier after… after the first time…"

"There wouldn't be much of a market for them if they didn't."

The crackle of the radio and the sound of her own voice coming from the satchel startles her, Elizabeth nearly tipping the table over in her surprise. "Easy now." The Voice continues quietly, the figment's calm helping Elizabeth regain some of her own, "You're banged up enough already."

"It's you… where have you been? You could have… so many times I could have used your help, and you choose _now_ to speak up? Why…?" Elizabeth's voice falters, and she can't help but feel a touch foolish, getting upset with someone who is entirely in her head. But Elizabeth still feels as if she was abandoned; the Voice could have at least warned her that Lamb would turn on them.

"You don't have time for this, Elizabeth. The Big Daddy isn't far, and he won't stop until he has you." The Voice is still calm and quiet when she answers, Elizabeth frowning, "But Gamma isn't Songbird, Elizabeth; there is a chance. The Plasmid will help, but you will need to find something more."

"More? I'm trapped in a tomb at the bottom of the sea." She pauses for a moment, a thought occurring to Elizabeth, "Is there a way out?"

"Only if you fancy swimming to the surface." Elizabeth rolls her eyes in exasperation at the ridiculous notion. "There is a weapon, someplace you can make your last stand. Find a map, get to the testing area. It's your best shot at escaping, Elizabeth."

Staring skeptically at the radio, Elizabeth heaves a weary sigh; another place to go, another item to retrieve. She's tired, battered and sore, only stubborn determination keeping Elizabeth from just giving up. "Plasmids, guns, another Big Daddy… nothing stops it. What makes you think any of this will make any difference? I'm… I'm scared. I wish Booker was here…"

"Elizabeth…" The Voice pauses, and Elizabeth wonders what it means for a voice in her head to be lost for words. "He might not be here, but there's plenty of Booker in you. Trust me; you are a DeWitt through and through, Elizabeth, and Booker would be proud of you. You can do this."

Elizabeth scoffs, but the radio has fallen silent, the Voice gone one way or another. "Alright… guess I should get to it."

Leaving the tram platform and table behind, Elizabeth makes a quick search of the decaying sheds, the only places in this small cavern she can imagine might have something of note. And while the first has nothing but aging, dust covered control consoles and an empty, rusty gun cabinet, the second yields a map in the form of a placard, the thin sheet of metal having fallen from its place on the wall and landing behind one of the consoles.

"Okay, let's see here… 'Arrival'. That's original…" Leaving the decaying sheds behind, Elizabeth steps towards the cavern's center as her eyes roam the map. "To the right is… the submarine bay? Don't suppose I'll find a working bathysphere there… and to the left…" Glancing towards the left tunnel, Elizabeth feels a frown tugging at her lips; a solid wall of rock and rubble blocks the tunnel no more than a hundred feet in.

"Suppose that just leaves this way… a bend to the right, then to the left, the ADAM lab, then straight on to Testing. That's where we need to go." Turning towards the central path, Elizabeth spares a glance back at the tram and the dark tunnel leading back to Fontaine Futuristics; there's no sign of Gamma yet, no red light or the sound of his boots on the rails, but Elizabeth can't imagine the Big Daddy is far behind.

The tunnel to the ADAM lab is a half-circle of rough, bare rock and metal support ribs with girders and brass pipes running down its length, and the sound of Elizabeth's heels on the metal grating floor echoes in the silence. There is enough room for a grown man to move about without having to duck. More of the bare light bulbs from the first cavern show the way, these screwed into the ceiling at regular intervals, though quite a few are burned out or missing entirely. Still, a little light is better than none at all, Elizabeth passing through stretches of shadow and light until she makes it to the first bend.

"Ah, hell…" Groaning, Elizabeth rubs her forehead unhappily, "Why can't it ever be something simple?" The roof in this part of the tunnel has caved in, a tangle of metal and rocks in her path. A few light bulbs miraculously remain intact, but most of the way forward is cloaked in shadows.

"Suppose I'll just have to find a way through this mess." Elizabeth frowns; even from here, she can see a few areas where she would have to pass under girders and sections of pipe, and there's no way of telling just how far she'll have to crawl. "Looks like I could fit through these pipes, if need be."

Climbing onto the rocks, Elizabeth starts winding her way around twisted girders, broken pipes and shards of broken metal, and she frequently has to resort to crawling to get through a particularly tight fit. It's slow going, and Elizabeth's hands and knees quickly grow sore from the rocks and metal. Her outfit fairs no better, her blouse and skirt accumulating a number of small tears and scuffs as she goes.

And her radio comes to life as she crawls through a section of pipe, the sudden burst of static in the confined space giving Elizabeth a start. Not a good thing while crawling through a solid brass pipe, and Elizabeth ends up cradling the back of her head, hissing in pain.

"You still with us, darlin'?"

"Ah… ah…" Rubbing her aching head and the bump that is already starting to form, Elizabeth crawls the rest of the way out of pipe before reaching for the radio. "… Sinclair, is th-ah… is that you?"

"Indeed it is, good to hear you're still in the land of the living. I caught wind of the trouble over at Fontaine's, and I must admit, you had me a touch concerned." The silver-tongued Sinclair still sounds as amiable as ever, though Elizabeth still can't tell if the friendly tone is genuine or not. "Can I assume you and DeWitt managed to beat a hasty retreat?"

"No… and I have no idea where he is, either…" Taking a break on a chunk of stone, Elizabeth gently massages the aching lump for a few seconds, "We got separated, and I ended up on a tram underneath Fontaine Futuristics. Now I don't know where I am, but Gamma… it's coming after me."

"Holy Moses, darlin', that's quite a pickle you've found yourself in. Sounds like you ended up in Fontaine's secret lab, from back when he first signed on Tenenbaum, an' I reckon the only way out is by bathysphere."

"I did see the submarine bay on a map, but I doubt there's a convenient vessel for me to escape with." Heaving a deep, weary sigh, Elizabeth picks herself up and starts making her way through the rubble once more. "I… hold on… are you sure you want to be talking like this? Weren't you worried that Ryan might catch on that you're helping me?"

"Old Andy's got his hands full, cleaning up the mess Atlas is making upstairs. But enough about that; let's talk about getting you out of there." That gets Elizabeth's attention, and she slows as she ducks under a low girder.

"H-How?"

"I'm arranging for a bathysphere, but it'll take time, darlin'. You just gotta stay alive an' ahead of the Tin Daddy till it gets there. I know, easier said than done, bu-"

Interference cuts off Sinclair, a loud squeal that makes Elizabeth cringe. It clears up after a moment, but the voice that sounds once it's gone is no better. "Apologies for the interruption, but do you truly believe a man like Sinclair?"

"Lamb." Still working her way through the rubble, Elizabeth almost growls the name, "What do you want? You mean to sell me to Ryan again?"

The psychiatrist ignores Elizabeth's remark, her dispassionate voice still as calm and even as ever, "Imagine my surprise, expecting to receive the last materials to start treating my daughter, only to learn that DeWitt and Comstock have resurfaced to thwart me. And now I learn that you are working with Sinclair, my erstwhile jailer and one of the men responsible for the creation of Gamma, and his ilk. To what end, I wonder? Is this simply petty retribution on your part, or has Sinclair promised you some reward?"

"She must be interfering with Sinclair's signal somehow… or… he's gone silent rather than argue with Lamb…" Muttering to herself, Elizabeth drops the shortwave back into her satchel, choosing to focus on getting through this mess rather than letting Lamb get a rise out of her. "She can carry a conversation well enough on her own, whether I answer or not."

"It matters not. You are as a cornered animal, Ms. DeWitt, with one of Ryan's implacable monsters soon to find you. I wonder, how will you choose to face your end? Will you regress to your baser instincts and lash out, despite the futility of such an act? Perhaps you will choose to take your own life, or will you simply surrender yourself to the inevitable?"

Elizabeth's thoughts turn to her conversation with the Voice, the figment's words of encouragement coming to mind. "Hmph, not very well likely. I guess the other me is right; I am a DeWitt. Booker never gave up, and neither will I."

"You denied my daughter a chance at regaining her own mind, but I bear you no ill will, Ms. DeWitt. Indeed, in some ways you fascinate me; a woman brought back from the dead, hunted by the very forces that brought about her being and suffering a unique existential crisis? The workings of your mind would make for a fascinating study."

"What's your point, Lamb?" Elizabeth's had it with Sofia Lamb's condescending monologue, and she digs the radio out of her satchel again as she reaches a point in the tunnel open enough for her to stand. "Is this your idea of taunting me, or do you just enjoy hearing the sound of your own voice as much as Ryan does?"

"Ah, so she speaks." There's a measure of smug satisfaction in Lamb's voice, Elizabeth gritting her teeth in annoyance. "Perhaps this is merely a farewell for one as peculiar as you are, Ms. DeWitt; the conversations you held with yourself on the radio were most enlightening, ample proof of your unusual mental state."

"Radio conversations with myself? Wh-what?" Elizabeth nearly stumbles over a broken metal rib, "What does she mean…?"

But Elizabeth doesn't have a chance to ask; a crash sounds from back down the tunnel, followed by an all too familiar, inhuman groan. It chills Elizabeth to her very core, so much so that she almost doesn't hear Lamb's final transmission. "It would seem the chase is coming to its end. Goodbye, Ms. DeWitt, I sincerely doubt we will speak again."

"Oh no…" Yellow light plays along the jagged ceiling of the tunnel, accompanied by the sounds of metal being thrown aside and a mining drill carving through stone. "I… I have to…" But Elizabeth's body is frozen in place, her legs refusing to obey as fear holds her fast. "Move… dammit, move!"

Another crash sounds, still a distance away but noticeably closer. And that breaks the grip of the fear induced paralysis, Elizabeth taking off like a shot, scrambling over, under and through the rubble with as much speed as she can muster. The once silent tunnel is now filled with the sounds of Elizabeth's gasps, the mining drill and Gamma crashing through metal and stone.

"Almost there… come on, Elizabeth, just a little bit farther!" Crawling through a pipe and leaving bloody handprints in her passing, Elizabeth spies an end to the collapse, the beleaguered young woman redoubling her efforts at the sight. The pain in her hands and knees makes each hurdle worse than the last, but Elizabeth doesn't care as she crawls through one last, tight gap between stone and beneath a twisted girder.

"Agh!"

Fresh pain flares to life in Elizabeth's leg as an ear-splitting roar shakes the tunnel, and she collapses onto the metal grating, covering her ears until the onslaught passes. But the pain doesn't disappear with the sound. "No… no, no, no!"

Gamma's bestial roar and powerful stomps had disturbed the rubble, causing the stone near Elizabeth to collapse and dropping the twisted girder on her left ankle. Another tremor shakes the tunnel once more as horror begins to grip Elizabeth, the broken metal and rock shifting dangerously as the Big Daddy continues to plow through the debris.

"Come on, come on! Please!"

Desperation sets in as Elizabeth struggles to free herself, pulling with all her might and ignoring the pain to dislodge her trapped ankle. But her position doesn't afford her any help, face down on the metal grating with her pinned leg higher than the rest of her, and Elizabeth kicks the twisted metal in frustration.

The crashing and the sound of the drill grows closer with each passing moment, and with it, Elizabeth's panic. Yellow light fills the tunnel, and Gamma's ponderous footsteps are now clearly audible to the trapped Elizabeth.

"Not… like… this!" Shouting between kicks, Elizabeth feels tears welling up in her eyes as despair and frustration threaten to overwhelm her. Nothing works, her every effort a futile one.

Until they aren't, her leg suddenly pulling free from its entrapment.

Clambering to her feet and away from the rubble, Elizabeth limps down the tunnel and towards the second bend, the pain in her ankle slowing her flight considerably. With Gamma hot on her heels, Elizabeth still has good reason to panic, even when she rounds the bend and the ADAM lab's entrance comes into sight.

She's halfway down this final stretch of tunnel when the whir of the mining drill and the sound of stone and metal being thrown aside stops; all that remains are the heavy, rapid footfalls as her pursuer gives chase. And Elizabeth looks back just in time to see Gamma closing fast, the monstrous Big Daddy barreling down the tunnel with uncanny speed and reaching for her. She barely has enough time to dive and escape its lunge, if only for a second.

"Get away from me!" Rolling onto her back the moment she hits the ground, Elizabeth snaps her fingers, and a blast of heat washes over her as Incinerate sets the Big Daddy alight. The behemoth howls in pain, and Elizabeth has to move fast to avoid being crushed beneath its metal boot. But Gamma's momentum carries the Big Daddy forward, leaving Elizabeth only one avenue of escape; right through its massive legs.

"Son of a…"

Cursing as she gasps for air, Elizabeth climbs to her feet, her ankle still slowing her down some; Gamma stands between her and the ADAM lab, the juggernaut's visor now glowing red with anger as the last of Incinerate's flames go out. "One chance… that's all I've got left…" Bringing her arms up, Elizabeth braces herself as Gamma turns to her, silently hoping she can pull off what she has in mind.

Gamma lunges again, the beast's speed belying its size. But with the mining drill still attached, it can only reach for her with its left hand, and Elizabeth manages to barely twist away from the Big Daddy's grasp. The maneuver sends pain shooting through her injured ankles, but she can't afford to stop; crossing her arms, Elizabeth wills her new Plasmid to work as she stumbles around Gamma, leaving a Target Dummy illusion in her place. "Please work… please…"

Her cowering decoy seems to confuse Gamma, the Big Daddy looking back and forth between Elizabeth and the illusion, but she doesn't wait to see if it fools him or not; Elizabeth keeps moving towards the ADAM lab, her speed increasing as adrenaline dulls the pain in her ankles.

The distraction doesn't last long, but it's enough for Elizabeth to reach and pull open the door of the lab, and she holds up her left hand in preparation to make another decoy. "Here, if you want me so badly, have another… huh?"

Nothing. Elizabeth's eyes widen as she crosses her arms a second time, and again, nothing appears between her and the approaching Gamma. "I'm out of EVE? No…" Backing up into the ADAM lab, Elizabeth stares back at the Big Daddy, the beast approaching her slowly now. The Alpha Series Big Daddy seems to be in no hurry now, the light of its visor turning yellow again as it squeezes through the labs open doorway. But it stops midway through, its helmeted head turning to look back.

"Elizabeth, run!" A shout comes from beyond Gamma, and the Big Daddy is hauled bodily away from the door. If that wasn't enough of a surprise, the figure that appears in its place leaves Elizabeth practically speechless.

"C-Comstock?!" Even with his back turned to her and in the shadows of the tunnel, Elizabeth can tell there's something different about the former Prophet; he seems bigger, more intimidating, but something about him feels… wrong, and there is a dangerous edge to his voice. He brandishes a large, heavy looking sledgehammer, and the flesh of his forearm appears mottled and rough. "You… you turned to splicing, didn't you?"

"I said run!" Comstock's roar echoes throughout the lab, the barely restrained aggression in it causing Elizabeth to take a step back. He still doesn't turn to face her, but Comstock takes a breath and continues, this time sounding far more like himself, "I'll… I'll buy you some time, just get out of here."

"O… okay… just…" Shaking her head in disbelief, Elizabeth backs away slowly, only turning to run once the reality of the situation sets in, "Just lead Gamma back to the testing area! I have a plan!" The last thing Elizabeth sees before tearing her gaze away is Comstock and Gamma charging at each other. And while she's soon out of sight of the battle, the constant sound of the mining drill and deafening impacts of the sledgehammer follow her clear to the other side of the lab.

* * *

 **Author's Note: So the situation is looking pretty grim for Elizabeth and Comstock; the latter has spliced to hell and back to face Gamma, and Elizabeth's hurt, bleeding and somewhat depleted of EVE as she runs deeper into the abandoned lab in search of some kind of weapon. Plus, they're still trapped unless Sinclair comes through, but what do you think are the chances of that happening with a raging Big Daddy still around? And how well do you think Comstock will fare with his impromptu splicing against Gamma?**

 **I fell behind writing this chapter, not entirely sure what was holding me back, but I guess being a couple days late is better than a couple weeks. Sorry for the delay, and I'll try to get the next chapter ready before the next weekend.**

 **There shouldn't be many errors in the chapter, spelling or otherwise, but feel free to let me know if you spot something that doesn't make sense or looks out of place. We're approaching the end of Elizabeth and Comstock's story here, so thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter.**


	18. Mirror, Mirror

**For new readers, this story is based off of and is tied into several other pieces of mine. If you're not sure where to start, I'd suggest finding Bioshock Infinite: Unbroken, as well as its prequel Unbroken: Song of Sorrow and the continuation Unbroken: I'm Home. Thanks for checking it out.**

 **There is now a timeline of sorts for the various chapters on my profile page, just an attempt to make it a little easier to see what happens when in relation to other chapters.**

* * *

Harsh, grating creaks echo down the narrow confines of the rocky tunnel, rusted hinges protesting loudly as a long-forgotten hatch is arduously forced open. The reverberating noise comes in brief bursts, leaving the tunnel with only the sounds of falling water in the distance and a young woman's pained, labored gasps as she catches her breath. A single bare bulb shines a meager amount of light on the tunnel's end, the dim incandescent hanging a good distance away from the bare rock and exposed pipes of the ceiling.

"Okay… okay, let's try that again…" Elizabeth takes a deep breath before stepping up to the heavy, circular hatch that bars her way, the word 'Testing' painted in large, bold letters near the top of the solid metal door. It's sturdily built, with a hatch wheel protruding from the center serving as both lock and handle, and Elizabeth can only guess as to the purpose for such a heavy-duty design; even without the rusted hinges, getting the hatch open would take some effort in her condition. Stale air wafts through the narrow crack she's managed so far, mingling with the faint odor of steel and causing Elizabeth to wrinkle her nose. "At least the worst is over… maybe fourth time's a charm?"

Taking hold of the hatch wheel, Elizabeth winces, her hands still raw and bloody from scrambling through rubble. Just turning the hatch wheel to unlock the way forward had been a struggle, the rough, tarnished metal now sporting several small flecks of blood where she had been gripping it.

"One, two… three!"

The low, drawn out creak fills the tunnel once again, drowning out Elizabeth's grunts of exertion as she pushes with all her might. The grating sound only grows louder as she struggles, the bulky steel door barely budging at first but slowly picking up speed, once Elizabeth begins to overcome inertia. This is far from easy for the haggard young woman, even discounting Elizabeth's injuries; she's exhausted, and her heels provide little purchase on the metal grates that make up the tunnel's floor, but Elizabeth doesn't much care for the idea of going barefoot when she can barely see what she's standing on.

She can't keep it up for long, her strength fading fast and leaving her clinging weakly to the hatch wheel when it fails entirely, Elizabeth gasping for air in short, shuddering breaths while pain flares in her hands, back and left ankle. "Son of a… what I wouldn't give for… for a first aid kit… right about now…"

But none of that matters in a moment, the pain and exhaustion moving to the back of her mind; weakly pushing herself off the metal hatch wheel, Elizabeth blinks in surprise when her gaze settles on the gap in the door, finding easily over a foot of clearance between the blast door and frame. The room beyond is cast in shadows and a shifting, murky blue light, and Elizabeth can make out some vague shapes from her narrow vantage point. And, most importantly, the gap is just wide enough for her to squeeze through.

Wriggling past the cumbersome hatch after tossing her old satchel through, a soft sigh escapes her once she's on the other side; it's good to be out of the dark confines of the tunnel, even if she only traded it for a larger cavern, the smell of stale air even stronger now that she's inside and the sounds of dripping water coming from somewhere in the shadows.

"Finally…" Quickly stepping away from the hatch and retrieving her satchel, Elizabeth stops short, a grimace marring her features; her palms still sting something fierce from fighting with the blast door, and her ankle has her limping again. "Gah… just… can't catch a break, can I?"

"Not a chance. But that never stopped a DeWitt."

"Wh-?! Oh…" The sudden return of the Voice startles Elizabeth, but she's just too sore and fatigued to react. Instead, she gingerly reaches into her satchel to retrieve the radio, Elizabeth taking care to avoid aggravating her injured hands further, "Didn't imagine I'd be hearing from you so soon…" She has no idea how long it's been, only that it seems as if mere minutes have passed since the tram deposited her in this forsaken place. "I'm all alone here… and you… you're the closest I have to a friend."

"Elizabeth… I'm… I'm not even here… I'm just a projection of your own mind." The Voice sounds as dejected as Elizabeth feels. "Well, suppose I appreciate the sentiment… but you have to keep moving, Elizabeth. There should be a switch for the lights around here, somewhere. The sooner you find it, the better." Elizabeth's illusory guide pauses, almost as if realizing something else is off. "Elizabeth, what's wrong?

"… nothing… it's… I'm fine. Just… still rattled by everything that happened since we spoke…"

The image of Comstock standing between her and the Big Daddy comes back to Elizabeth, as does the sense of wrongness she felt when she lay eyes on him. The memory leaves her feeling burdened, as if it were alive and gnawing at her peace of mind.

"Focus, Elizabeth. We can talk while you search; remember, you don't have all day." The Voice is gentle but firm, and Elizabeth finds herself nodding after a moment. But the next words out of the Voice's 'mouth' surprises her, though Elizabeth isn't sure why. "Comstock made a choice. He became a Splicer. So?"

"So?" Feeling her way through the dark, Elizabeth stops and stares at the radio, dismayed, "He… damned himself to stand up to Ryan's pet. He could have abandoned me, but he chose to… to turn himself into a monster…"

"But, Elizabeth… the Prophet _is_ a monster. You came to Rapture to end him, for what he did to you, to Anna…" Elizabeth can't deny the truth in her figment's words, the anger and hostility she felt for Comstock even when he was protecting her proof enough, but it does little to assuage her growing sense of guilt. "He looks and sounds like Booker, but he's still Comstock."

"… are you sure? I think… he's both."

"Excuse me?" The Voice sounds genuinely confused by Elizabeth's mumbling.

"I… don't know." Even through the suffering and exhaustion, Elizabeth feels a pang of heartache as she remembers the river and Booker, and she finds herself focusing on the search for the light switch to keep the emotions at bay, "Comstock was a monster, but… this Comstock…" She doesn't entirely know where she's going with this, Elizabeth trailing off and leaving the sentiment unfinished.

Continuing the search in silence, Elizabeth soon finds something out of place along the rough, irregular stone, a hard box with a smaller shape standing out. "Found it." Light floods the Testing area the moment she flicks the switch, forcing Elizabeth to squint until her eyes can adjust.

"Good work. Listen, Elizabeth; you need to keep moving, find the weapon. Comstock can't keep trading blows with the Big Daddy, sort this out when your life isn't in danger."

"Really, when will that be, huh? Seems there's always… ah, hell…" Still squinting and a touch annoyed that the Voice is changing the subject, Elizabeth turns to get her first look at the Testing area, and what she finds causes her jaw to drop; the place is larger than she imagined, with numerous boxes, crates, shelves, bins and tools scattered about half the room.

Testing looks much like the tunnels that connect it to Arrival and the ADAM lab, only many times larger; the place has the feel of a bunker of sorts, the curved walls and ceiling forming a half cylinder of roughhewn stone supported by girders and pipes that stretches off to the left from the bulky metal hatch, with the ends of the cylinder being sheer, oddly smooth rock. The rocky wall on the right sports a sturdy, ten-foot-wide porthole that looks out into the ocean; the shifting blue light that Elizabeth had noticed before comes through the porthole, the source out of sight and not particularly high on her list of priorities. Rows of bright neon lights hang from the ceiling, high overhead and miraculously still functioning. And just as with so many of Rapture's forgotten and abandoned sections, there are a handful of leaks that allow water to trickle into the room.

The portion of Testing she stands in seems to be a workshop of sorts, with numerous workbenches, desks and tool racks set between the hatch and the far wall, though many are falling apart or thoroughly ruined by the water that drips from the pipes and ceiling. Fortunately, the stone tile here isn't as flat as it was in Arrival or the lab, the ground subtly sloped so the water can flow towards a number of drains set into the floor.

Farther to the left stands what Elizabeth assumes is storage, a great number of bins and crates piled on the floor and on shelves that line the walls. Standing in the middle of the storage area and between the supporting girders are several large metal frames, some of which suspend broken down or incomplete pieces of machinery with chains, straps and hooks. Several of the crates are falling apart from water damage and a couple shelves have collapsed from rust and corrosion, but the most noticeable sign of damage is an out of place mass of ice against the far wall and near the workbenches, the seawater that falls upon it seemingly adding to its size.

Beyond that looks to be where the testing proper took place; the stone at the far end of the room shows signs of being shot, blasted and scorched, and Elizabeth thinks she can make out what look to be destroyed target dummies. She also spies several gurneys and wheelchairs, all of which sport restraints.

"How in the hell am I supposed to find anything in this?!"

Silence. Elizabeth stares at her shortwave in disbelief, but the radio remains quiet, the Voice no longer answering. "Dammit… _now_ you disappear on me? Of all the…"

 _Clang_.

Irritated as she is, Elizabeth doesn't hear the faint sound in the distance, but only at first. Another clang follows a few moments later, this time accompanied by a faint whirring sound, still in the distance but loud enough to catch her ear. And Elizabeth feels the color drain from her face as she recognizes the sounds, Comstock's sledgehammer and Gamma's drill announcing their approach.

"Right, focus… I have a weapon to find." Glancing down at her radio, Elizabeth wishes the Voice had stuck around; she could really use someone to talk to, even if she would only be talking to herself. Instead, she has to settle for one of her last _Cheeky_ Pep Bars, the first bite of the sweet, chocolaty treat revitalizing her in more ways than she can count. Even her hands feel better, though they're still far from healed. "Suppose I'll just have to figure something…"

But Elizabeth hesitates before returning the radio to its place in her satchel; just looking at the crates and bins, she can tell this is not going to be simple or painless, not with her hands like this. "Tools first… there has to be a crowbar around here, or maybe… ah, what I wouldn't give for some gloves…" That's when an idea comes to her, Elizabeth stopping midway through a bite of her Pep Bar; it won't be comfortable by any stretch of the imagination, but she has something that will serve passing well as bandages, if nothing else. She only need find a sufficiently sharp edge, and it beats contracting tetanus.

Emptying her satchel's scant contents onto a workbench near the entrance and dropping the canvas bag beside them, Elizabeth moves as quickly as she can among the workshop's tables, counters and boards, gathering anything that could be useful and appears in good condition. In short order, a crowbar, pair of shears, pair of screwdrivers and a wrench join her last Pep Bar and bottle of water on the worn surface. She also sets down a sealed packet of Three Stars cigarettes, though Elizabeth isn't sure the EVE she could get out of them is worth it.

"Okay… here we go." Finishing her Pep Bar, Elizabeth picks up the shears and starts slicing the fabric of her satchel; part of her is reluctant to dispose of the bag after carrying it so far, but Elizabeth doesn't have the luxury of being sentimental.

"There, that should-ah… that'll do." Wrapping the makeshift bandages around her hands in such a way that her fingers can still move, Elizabeth next moves to fashion a lanyard for her radio from the satchel's remains and slips the frayed canvas strap over her shoulder; she'll need her hands free for the search, and doesn't much care to either leave the radio behind or have to keep picking it up whenever she needs to move. "Now to find that weapon…" A daunting task, but a crash in the distance provides more than enough motivation to get started.

With crowbar in hand and her last Pep Bar unwrapped, Elizabeth gets to work, prying open crates and searching bins while the chocolate confection does its work. While she still has no idea quite what she's looking for yet, the search at least starts smoothly; starting with the shelf, crates and bins near the hatch, she finds few of the containers are tightly sealed and many are labelled with their contents. Unfortunately, most turn out to be less than useful.

"Empty Plasmid vials, rifle parts, nuts, bolts…" a frown touches Elizabeth's lips as she mutters, "screws, rusted Air Grabbers, and… a broken Radar Range. Something tells me this isn't what she had in mind…" What she remembers of the Radar Range, it wouldn't so much as slow down Gamma.

As the minutes pass and her search proves no more fruitful, frustration begins to build within Elizabeth once more, along with no small amount of desperation; the sounds that had been distant before are now anything but, Elizabeth able to hear Comstock's voice and Gamma's bellows between crashes. The fight is drawing close, and she's no closer to a solution than when she stepped off the tram.

"Come on, where the hell is it? I'm almost halfway done with this side…" Turning away from the shelf and stepping up to one of the metal suspension frames, Elizabeth's gaze settles on the mass of ice across the room, and she feels a scowl twisting her features, "Knowing my luck, I wouldn't be surprised, not one bit…"

But it doesn't come to that, a crackle coming from the shortwave as Elizabeth turns back to the shelves on this side of the room. "There, straight ahead, third shelf u-"

"Huh?" Stopping the moment she hears the radio, Elizabeth looks down at the once again silent shortwave, confused; it almost sounded like the speaker was cut off. And Elizabeth could swear she heard another voice before the transmission stopped.

"Was that…? No… focus, Elizabeth; straight ahead, third shelf up… there." Following the Voice's instructions, Elizabeth finds herself at a mostly empty shelf that's nearer to the testing range, her gaze settling on a lone, hefty looking crate that rests at about eye level. It bears a pair of faded emblems; the first is the FF of Fontaine Futuristics. The other is a stylized M, Elizabeth recognizing the emblem but unable to quite remember from where. "There you are… c'mere, let's have a loo-oof!"

Grabbing the crate by both ends and yanking hard, Elizabeth manages to pull the heavy box halfway off the shelf, but that turns out to be a mistake; the crate begins to tip and slide off, catching Elizabeth by surprise and forcing her to catch it with her body.

"Gah! C'mon… get back up… there! Ugh…" Stumbling under the sudden impact, Elizabeth struggles to keep her grip on the crate as she tries to set it down again, despite her injuries. "Okay… I need… need something to move this… suppose those gurneys could serve well enough…"

It takes the worn down, exhausted brunette a couple minutes to find a gurney in good condition, many of the wheeled stretchers ruined by corrosion or damaged in some way. Once she does, getting the crate back to the workshop area becomes a trivial matter, aside from carrying the heavy wooden box from shelf to gurney and from gurney to workbench. And Elizabeth doesn't waste any time in prying the cover off the crate, the pain in her hands and back be damned.

"This best be worth…" Elizabeth stops midsentence once the crate is open, her eyes widening in surprise; a long glass and metal cylinder rests amid packing straw, Elizabeth trying to remember the name from what feels like a lifetime ago. There are several other pieces packed among the straw, and Elizabeth quickly gives up on trying to remember, instead removing the parts to get started.

 _Thud._

A tremor accompanies the dull, heavy sound, the slight shake of the ground drawing Elizabeth's attention away from the weapon. It's only for a moment, but long enough for her to realize something's missing; the sounds of fighting are conspicuously absent, the pounding of the hammer and whirr of the drill replaced by steady _thuds_ and the accompanying tremors. And as she hesitantly looks up from the weapon, a terrible crash fills Testing, the shriek of the cumbersome hatch's rusted hinges as the blast door slams into raw stone forcing Elizabeth to clamp her hands over her ears.

Elizabeth's world is bathed in red, an inhuman groan rumbling from the hulking figure that fills the open hatch. "Gamma…" The implacable Big Daddy stomps into Testing with its baleful gaze fixed on Elizabeth; the monster didn't emerge unscathed from its fight with Comstock, the Big Daddy's armored diving suit dented, cracked and ripped in several places. And while she knows it's a futile gesture, Elizabeth takes hold of the crowbar and backs away slowly, determined not to go down easy.

Everything seems to move in slow motion as the armored behemoth bears down on her, Elizabeth gritting her teeth and raising her crowbar in defiance even as despair and terror threatens to erode her resolve. The sound of dripping water and Gamma's heavy footsteps seem to fade away, leaving Elizabeth with only her rapidly quickening breath and her heartbeat pounding in her ears.

That, and an explosion from behind that puts Gamma's entrance to shame, Elizabeth knocked from her feet and letting out a surprised scream as something hurtles past her.

Her ears ringing from the blast, Elizabeth can still hear Gamma's furious, pained roar, whatever it was that flew past her striking the Big Daddy in the chest and hurtling it back towards the hatch. "Wh-what the hell was that?!" She doesn't get a chance to find out, however; a frigid gust blows past her cheek as she tries to stand, Elizabeth looking up in time to see a ball of ice strike Gamma and freeze the Big Daddy where it lays. But as surprising as the past few seconds have been, what she finds when she looks back takes the cake.

"I didn't expect the Luteces to employ a cannon…"

A Tear wavers and shimmers against the back wall of Testing, and looking at the figure stepping through is like staring into a mirror for Elizabeth; although the newcomer's hair is tied back in a ponytail and she's dressed in a shirt with vest and trousers, there's no mistaking her own face. The other her grins back at Elizabeth as the Tear winks out of existence, and she can only imagine the look on her face right now.

"H-how… why…?"

"It's a long story… c'mere." The newly arrived Elizabeth helps her to her feet, and only then does Elizabeth notice her hand is cold and icy, a surefire sign of a Plasmid, "We've a laser to fix, and we don't have a lot of time."

Elizabeth is about to object, that it's not possible to put the weapon together before Gamma unfreezes and her other self runs out of EVE, but a familiar, distorted voice in the distance stops her short. "… Comstock?"

"Right on time."

* * *

"… hnngh…"

Darkness gives way as Comstock comes to, his eyes opening slowly to a world tinged in red. Feeling comes next, pain flooding his senses from all over his body, but the sensation is dull and distant. Only an ache in the back of his skull comes through clearly. And it all comes back to Comstock an instant later; threatening that doctor into splicing him up, chasing after Elizabeth, trading blows with Gamma, and finally getting thrown hard against a pipe and being partially buried in collapsing stone and metal.

"Gotta get out… gotta… how long was I out…?" Pushing aside a section of pipe, Comstock grimaces as he fights his way free from the rubble; the splicing gave him the strength of several men, but it didn't come without cost. "Hard to think… can't focus…" There's only one thing his mind can hold onto, and Comstock clings to it for his sanity's sake; protect the girl.

Comstock groans and staggers to his feet once the last of the rubble is cleared, and he quickly retrieves his sledgehammer, a sense of urgency overtaking him as he thinks of Elizabeth. His mottled, ADAM-toughened hide is covered in gashes from Gamma's drill, and the handle of his sledgehammer is cracked and splintered from beating on the Big Daddy's armor; even with all the splicing, Comstock's feeling a touch winded, but he doesn't let that slow him down.

"The hell does it take to put him down…?"

Charging down the dark tunnel towards Testing, Comstock has to keep blinking and shaking his head to keep it clear, the former Prophet still having difficulty focusing; aggression and violent impulses cloud his thoughts, Comstock at times feeling more like a feral animal than a man. Worse still is a disturbing, ever-present hunger that hovers around the edges of his mind. And the lucid part of Comstock knows just what that it. He's seen what it does to Splicers that don't get their fix.

The building fury, the urges, distractions and the encroaching insanity quickly become irrelevant, however, when the sound of an explosion rips through the facility. "No… Elizabeth, hold on!"

Gunshots follow several seconds later, the harsh reports echoing in the tunnel as Comstock barrels towards Testing. The sound doesn't help with Comstock's urgency, and the Prophet-turned-Splicer is on the verge of panic when his destination comes into sight.

"Elizabeth!" Bursting through the open hatch, Comstock prepares to start swinging… and comes to a dead stop. Even the ADAM-born demons in his head fall silent at the scene before him. "Elizabeth... and… Elizabeth?" Blinking quickly, Comstock begins to wonder if he's farther gone than he thought. At least, until the second Elizabeth shouts, this one dressed much as he and brandishing an old-fashioned revolver. Gamma stands a few paces from the hatch, frozen in midstride.

"Comstock! Get the Big Daddy outside, and keep him there!"

"… sure thing." He has questions, and if he was in his right mind, he'd likely have questions. But he isn't and doesn't care to ask, the aggression rising once more as he moves towards Gamma. The Big Daddy breaks free of the ice just as his sledgehammer comes down on its shoulder, Comstock taking the opportunity to bull rush the roaring monster back through the hatch.

"I'm not letting you back in there." Standing in the doorframe and raising his sledgehammer, Comstock snarls at Gamma, the Big Daddy's visor bathing the dark tunnel in baleful red, "Come at me all you like, I'm not letting you take her, you hear me?!"

Gamma's guttural roar shakes the tunnel, Comstock gritting his teeth before answering with a roar of his own. The sounds reverberate down the tunnel, and the former Prophet experiences a moment of clarity as they fade, much like the calm before the storm; this fight is all that matters now, everything he's done and everything he's experienced since waking up in the Vita-Chamber leading to this. And Comstock has no regrets.

"… it takes a man to kill a monster. But there's only monsters here." Brandishing his weapon, a feral, humorless grin crosses Comstock's face, "C'mon, you tin-plated piece of shit." Both Protector and Prophet charge, the distance between them disappearing in the blink of an eye.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Well, everything's coming to a head now; the original Elizabeth has entered the scene, and Comstock has to hold the line against Gamma while the Elizabeths rebuild the Ion Laser. It might be all the ADAM in his system and messing with his head, but do you think Comstock can fend off a raging Big Daddy for long enough, even after it took a cannon shell (more on that in another chapter) to the chest? For all their sakes, I certainly hope so. And even if he makes it out of Rapture, where could Comstock go, as spliced up as he is?**

 **So, the chapter took a week longer than I hoped it would to finish, hopefully the next won't be as difficult to finish. Part of the reason is that the story is nearing it's conclusion, and writing so the chapters are consistent with the other stories in Unbroken is proving to be complicated. Too many ideas that aren't panning out.**

 **Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter.**


	19. To The Last

**For new readers, this story is based off of and is tied into several other pieces of mine. If you're not sure where to start, I'd suggest finding Bioshock Infinite: Unbroken, as well as its prequel Unbroken: Song of Sorrow and the continuation Unbroken: I'm Home. Thanks for checking it out.**

 **There is now a timeline of sorts for the various chapters on my profile page, just an attempt to make it a little easier to see what happens when in relation to other chapters.**

 **Foreword: Just a quick note, the first part of this chapter takes place before the end of the previous chapter and immediately after chapter 59 of I'm Home. It mostly serves to bring the original Elizabeth's and the resurrected Elizabeth's timeframes together.**

* * *

August 27, 1897, 11:45 PM

"There, straight ahead, third shelf u-huh?"

"Pardon us, but I do believe we are pressed for time."

The abrupt disappearance of the small, wavering Tear surprises Elizabeth, leaving her at a loss for words. Rosalind Lutece's voice doesn't help any, either, only serving to draw Elizabeth's attention from the radio she still holds to her lips. "Time? What…?"

"There are final preparations to see to." Robert speaks up, the brother Lutece standing beside his sister and placing a hand on Rosalind's shoulder, "We are asking that you step into harm's way on our behalf, I don't see the harm in getting our hands dirty. When the time comes, we'll open the way for you." Bowing his head slightly, Robert vanishes along with Rosalind, the twins leaving Elizabeth alone on the rooftop with even more questions than answers.

"… why do I even bother asking anymore…" A frown crosses Elizabeth's lips as she grumbles softly, and she lets the radio fall to her side with an exasperated sigh. "Suppose there's nothing to do but wait..."

Sitting back down on the hard concrete, Elizabeth sets the radio down beside her and stares off into the distance, the solitude and quiet giving her time to think. But even on the rooftop and in the dead of night, the city is far from silent; while the trains of the Third Avenue El aren't running at this hour and traffic is sparse on the Bowery, Elizabeth can still hear the occasional clip-clop of hooves on the street below, and faint voices reach her from a nearby tenement. A balmy breeze still blows gently across the rooftop, warming Elizabeth after her brief, chilly visit to Minerva's Den.

But she barely notices any of it, Elizabeth sitting hunched over with her hands clasped and elbows resting on her knees. She's shivering, and it's got nothing to do with her still damp clothes.

"Minerva's Den was one thing; Ryan and Atlas were long dead, but this time…" Elizabeth shudders, "Damn… can't stop shaking…" In a few minutes, she'll be venturing back into a Rapture where the iron-fisted tycoon and the psychotic revolutionary are not only alive and well, but also far too close for comfort. She should be focusing on what needs to be done, but memories better left buried at sea rise to the surface instead.

"It's been years now, but I still remember… all of it." The thought causes her to grimace, Elizabeth screwing her eyes shut for a moment; the memories of her time in Rapture are still crystal clear. Not all of it, but from the moment she woke up in the Toys Department on seems to be burned into her memory, even though most of it she'd rather forget. She barely escaped with her life, thanks to Booker and the Luteces, and now she's risking it all over again by returning.

"Heh…" Lifting her head, Elizabeth lets a small grin play across her lips, a thought distracting her from the ghosts of her past, "Booker rescued me with the Luteces' help, and now here I am, aiming to do the same… I'm even dressed the part."

The thought manages to dispel some of Elizabeth's uneasiness, and she draws her revolver, looking the weapon over rather than just waiting. The parts for the Ion Laser rest in her pockets along with a handful of extra bullets, Elizabeth hoping she doesn't have to fumble to reload before she gets a chance to set the components somewhere safe. "No guarantees there…"

As far as plans go, Elizabeth's heard worse: pass through the Tear, freeze the Big Daddy, fix the laser. Simple, but she's sure as hell the Luteces have left out plenty of details.

"Details such as Comstock…" Now a frown crosses her lips; Comstock is supposed to catch up shortly after she arrives and hold off the Big Daddy, but what if she and the other Elizabeth can't repair the laser quickly enough? And even if they manage, do the Luteces intend to let a spliced Comstock loose on the surface? "Wonder what else those two aren't telling me…"

That doesn't help her anxiety any, Elizabeth climbing to her feet and begins pacing instead; there's little point in trying to understand the method behind the Luteces' madness. She might as well worry over the task ahead, Elizabeth running everything she remembers reading about the Ion Laser over and over through her mind.

"Elizabeth?!"

"Wha-?!" The rooftop access door opens unexpectedly, Elizabeth's head snapping up as she yelps in surprise. "… Booker? What are you…?"

Booker stands in the open doorway, breathing hard and glancing suspiciously about the rooftop before fixing his gaze on her. From the looks of it, he must have sprinted up the stairs, but how did he know she was on the roof?

"Mind telling me what the hell is going on here?"

"I… I don't…" Elizabeth can't help but stammer, her surprise leaving her at a loss for words. What in the world could have possessed him to come looking for her on the rooftop? "How did you know to… to look up here?"

"Your dog woke me, an-"

The sound of an explosion thunders in the distance, Booker cutting his explanation short as he and Elizabeth both turn south, "The hell…? Some damn fool fired off a cannon? Doesn't sound like it came from Fort Columbus…"

"Cannon? Don't tell me…" As if in answer to her unspoken thought, a Tear appears before Elizabeth, the wavering rip in reality opening quickly. "Of course it is…"

Looking back for a moment, Elizabeth gives her father a lopsided grin, "Booker, I have to go. There's someone who needs my help, and… I need to do this." She bolts through the moment its open, whatever objection Booker shouts going unheard as the Tear closes behind her.

* * *

May 15, 1959, 11:50 PM

A fiery explosion engulfs Gamma, Comstock bringing up an arm to shield himself from the effects of his Plasmid, the flames licking at his mottled, leathery skin and tattered sleeve. He barely feels the heat or the shockwave, but Comstock nevertheless stumbles back a step; the Plasmid took the last of Comstock's EVE, his heavily spliced body feeling weak and drained after hurling the Devil's Kiss fireball.

The lack of EVE isn't Comstock's biggest problem, though, not by a long shot; his hide is scored by fresh gashes and grazes, each the result of his narrowly avoiding impalement by Gamma's drill, but Comstock doesn't have the time or means to stop the bleeding. The worst is the damage done to his left hand, the skin of his palm almost entirely stripped away, though at least that wound isn't bleeding; the fireball had quickly dried the blood. Too bad that doesn't help with the pain.

"Something tells me that ain't the end of it."

"I know…" Comstock grits his teeth, irritated that he answered; along with the aggression and hunger that lingers around the periphery of his unraveling sanity, Comstock's now hearing voices, mostly a jumble of gibbering, nonsensical whispers. But this one speaks plainly, and in his own voice.

The hulking form of Gamma appears within the rapidly dissipating flames, the beast seemingly unfazed by the explosion and its visor still glowing a baleful red. The whirring sound of the drill spinning up fills the now quiet tunnel, accompanied by the heavy, clunking footsteps of the Big Daddy. "… goddammit, whatever Elizabeth's got up her sleeve, it better be one hell of a trump card…" Cursing quietly, Comstock shakes his head, trying to push aside the sense of weakness and draw on the aggressive, violent impulses. He keenly remembers being run through by a Big Daddy's drill, and Comstock doesn't care to repeat the experience.

While the Big Daddy is still a relentless, implacable monster, Comstock finally seem to be hurting the towering behemoth; Gamma's helmet is dented where he managed to score a pair of solid blows with his sledgehammer, and its left arm isn't moving much anymore, the Big Daddy no longer pummeling him with the limb. Then there's the rent where the helmet covers the Big Daddy's chest, something Comstock can only guess has to do with the earlier explosion and the appearance of the second Elizabeth.

"Where did you find these parts?! They barely fit!"

"Let's just say this isn't my first visit to Rapture tonight!" Metal striking metal comes from behind Comstock, the Elizabeths sounding tense and a touch frantic as they work. "Gah, should have seen this coming… sure, it's a prototype, but this _should_ work!"

"Should?!"

A roar from Gamma drowns out the girls, and Comstock lets out a low snarl of his own, the feral aggression taking hold. He can't just give in to the bloodlust, however; throwing caution to the wind and letting himself go full Splicer might help against the Big Daddy, but Comstock has a job to do, and he's not letting Gamma through this door. "Even if it kills you, huh? Heh…" The disembodied voice chuckles, "Swinging a hammer, trying to beat a machine, sounds like something out of a folk tale."

While he's in no mood for jokes, Comstock still has sense enough to appreciate the irony, if only for a moment. Once its past, Comstock's right back to swinging his hammer as he charges the Big Daddy. But that proves to be a mistake.

Coils of electricity begin to dance along the Big Daddy's diving suit, casting a flickering, bluish light around the tunnel, and the strong smell of ozone fills Comstock's nose as Gamma lets loose another deafening roar. "Ah, son of a-!" Comstock barely has time to shield himself with his arms before tendrils of lightning explode from Gamma, the blast hitting him point blank and sending him tumbling back towards Testing's open hatch. The landing is nearly as violent as the explosion, Comstock letting out a pained shout as he hits the ground and ends up face down in the open doorway.

"Comstock!"

Comstock opens his eyes as he hears Elizabeth's voice, but it sounds distant, barely perceptible over the pounding in his head; the blast really cleaned his clock, Comstock blinking slowly while gathering his wits. "Least you're still in one piece. Now get up, it ain't quitting time yet."

"Tell me something I don't know… gah!" Grunting in pain, Comstock finds heeding the disembodied voice easier said than done, his body still spasming painfully from the electricity as he lurches to his feet. "I'm fine, Elizabeth! Whatever you're doing, hurry!"

"We're almo-ngh! Dammit!"

"Careful! Here, screw this in, I'll handle the lenses…"

Comstock can't make out the rest of the other Elizabeth's words; heavy, clunking footsteps and the whirring sound of the mining drill clear whatever cobwebs still linger in his mind, Comstock turning quickly to face the Big Daddy and lashing out blindly with his sledgehammer. He's rewarded with a satisfying _clang_ , the hammer striking Gamma's drill and knocking the deadly, spinning tip away from him.

While his mind is quickly unravelling, Comstock still has the wherewithal to recognize an opening when he sees one, and Gamma's wide open now that the drill's been knocked aside. "I got something for you, you son of a bitch!" Comstock lunges, raising his sledgehammer over his head and bringing it down with all of his considerable, ADAM-enhanced strength.

A feral, mirthless grin spreads across his features as the hammer crashes into the metal and glass fixture atop Gamma's helmet, the darker, aggressive impulses swirling madly in his mind. Bloodlust surges as the Big Daddy seems to buckle under the blow and the fixture is crushed. That is, until he stumbles forward, a loud _crack_ sounding in the darkened tunnel.

"… huh?" The voices and encroaching insanity fall silent, seemingly sharing Comstock's surprise. He barely felt anything after the initial hit, his swing continuing on without resistance, and it takes him a second to realize why; the wooden handle finally broke in half, splintering under the force of the blow. The head falls to the floor between Comstock and the briefly reeling Gamma, one last _clang_ ringing out.

For a moment, Comstock and Gamma stare at the broken weapon between them, and the reality of the situation seems to sink in for the both of them as they look back up at each other.

"Ah, hell…" That's all he can get out before Gamma's on him, the Big Daddy slamming into Comstock's chest with its shoulder. The blow knocks the wind out of Comstock, nearly bowling him over.

"That must've hurt."

There's no time to answer the voice, Comstock gritting his teeth through the pain and striking back with the broken handle, though he has no illusions about how effective the foot and a half long club will be against the Big Daddy. And he's right; Gamma doesn't even flinch under the repeated blows, the genetic monstrosity drawing itself up to its full, imposing height as Comstock tires himself out. If he didn't know any better, Comstock would swear the creature is laughing at his efforts. "You son of a…"

Gamma doesn't let him finish, grabbing Comstock with its mangled left arm and viciously headbutting the spliced up former Prophet. Comstock doesn't so much hear as feel a sickening crunch as his world explodes in pain, blood flowing freely from his broken nose and his vision going white, as if a bomb went off in his head. The blow knocks him silly, his already unravelling mind in shambles.

Which is why a dazed Comstock can only stand there as a familiar whirring sound fills his ears, his disjointed thoughts unable to recognize the danger it represents. Other sounds join the whirring a heartbeat later; voices shouting, and a strange, electric hum.

Comstock's senses return just in time for a savage body shot, the hit lifting him from his feet for a split second, and an incredible amount of pain follows along with weakness in his legs; typical for a hard body blow, but that's where the similarities end. A fit of coughing leaves a coppery taste in his mouth, and Comstock looks down when he realizes its blood. Somehow, he's not surprised by what he finds. "Oh."

Gamma's still spinning drill is buried almost entirely in his stomach, and Comstock can only stare as the strangest sense of déjà vu overtakes him; it doesn't hurt as much as when the last Big Daddy killed him. But he's not the same as he was in the Toy's Department, Comstock still possessing a measure of strength. Somehow managing to stay on his feet even while impaled on the giant drill, Comstock glares back at Gamma as he grabs the metal brace that supports the Big Daddy's drill with his left hand, keeping it from pulling free.

"You plan on dancing with it?" The disembodied voice seems to be mocking him. "How do you figure that'll help?"

"Comstock, catch!"

Even with the drill impaling him, Comstock still reacts to Elizabeth's shout, looking back as best he can and barely managing to catch whatever she threw. And the moment it's in his hand, Comstock recognizes the shape and weight of an old-style revolver. "Apprecia-!" Another fit of bloody coughs cut him off. That's all the time he'll waste, Comstock finding the trigger and shoving the revolver's barrel into the hole in Gamma's armor.

The report of the first shot is nearly lost in the roar it draws from Gamma, Comstock holding on to the Big Daddy's arm for dear life as the wounded behemoth tries to dislodge him. All the while, he keeps pulling the trigger until the gun runs dry, both Comstock and the Big Daddy rapidly losing strength from their wounds. He can hear the Elizabeths frantically shouting, but Comstock can't make any of it out, not with Gamma's thrashing and his senses dimming as the life ebbs from him.

"How'd you like that, you… son of a…?" Mumbling as the last measure of his strength fades, Comstock finally loses his grip on Gamma and stumbles back, a sickening sound coming from the wound when the drill dislodges from his flesh. Without the support of the drill through his stomach, Comstock almost immediately goes from stumbling to falling.

"No! Comstock!" Landing flat on his back, Comstock finds he can scarcely breathe, much less answer Elizabeth's shout. A shout that he can barely hear, his body and senses continuing to weaken.

"Elizabeth, fire!" The other Elizabeth this time, Comstock's addled mind wondering what the hell she's talking about. He gets his answer as soon as he finishes the thought; a brilliant beam of light lances through the air, Comstock only able to stare up at the ray with a touch of awe.

* * *

"Elizabeth, fire!"

Her counterpart shouting cuts through the shock of seeing Comstock run through again, Elizabeth snapping out of it and pulling the Ion Laser's trigger, a single, desperate thought running through her mind as she does, "Please, work!" The parts are in place and the resonator chamber glows with a bright, coherent beam of golden energy, but the Ion Laser begins to spark, smoke and vibrate dangerously. "No, no! Come o-whoa!"

A brilliant beam of light shoots across Testing and into the Big Daddy, its sudden appearance and intensity causing Elizabeth to yelp in surprise. And she's not alone; Gamma seems just as surprised as Elizabeth, the ray burning through its armor in mere moments and drawing a bellow of pain from the Big Daddy. Another couple of seconds, and the beam burns clean through Gamma's chest.

Already gravely wounded, the Protector turned bloodhound lets out one last, groaning howl before collapsing with a resounding crash, the light in Gamma's visor going dark as it finally falls. And it happens not a moment too soon; the beam vanishes as loud, sparking sounds come from within the weapon, a plume of thick, acrid smoke rising from the Ion Laser's main compartment.

"Comstock!" Limping around the workbench, Elizabeth rushes as best she's able to her fallen companion, panic and dread seizing her; she doesn't need a good look to realize the extent of his injuries. "No, no, no… Comstock, come back to me!"

"Gah…" A faint groan sounds as Elizabeth drops to her knees beside him, Comstock turning his head slowly to look up at her, the simple act seeming almost too much for him. "I'm still… still here, Elizabeth…" A weak grin briefly touches upon Comstock's bloody features, but it seems too much for him, "Is it… is it done?"

"Yeah… yeah, it's done. You did it…" Tears well up as Elizabeth answers softly; he's putting on a brave face, but they both know what's coming. Comstock's face is a mess; his mouth, chin, much of his jaw and neck are coated in blood, eyes red from burst blood vessels, and his nose is badly broken. His breathing is shallow and raspy, and Comstock's mottled skin has taken on an unhealthy pallor. And Elizabeth can't bring herself to even look at the worst of his wounds, both for how grievous it is and how much it reminds her of what happened in the Toys Department.

"… Elizabeth? Are you… crying?"

"What? No… no, of course not…" He chuckles at that, and Elizabeth wipes away the hint of tears, though she can't keep from sniffling softly. He's not the only one trying to put on a brave face.

Elizabeth hasn't felt heartache like this in a long time, and it's made worse by how helpless she is; after everything she's been through and all her book-learning, there's not a single thing she can do to help, not with Comstock's wounds. A hand touches her shoulder and gives it a gentle, reassuring squeeze, Elizabeth looking up briefly to find her counterpart standing there.

"So long as you're safe…" Another fit of coughing up blood, and Elizabeth holds Comstock's ravaged left hand in hers; the splicing is all that's keeping Comstock alive, and even that can't last. "Listen… I was never getting outta here… knew that when I got spliced up. But you will… get going, Elizabeth… get to the surface…"

"Hey, I'm not going to abandon you." Tears threaten to spill down her cheeks again, Elizabeth blinking them away quickly and giving Comstock the most reassuring smile she can manage, "Sinclair sent a bathysphere, and we're both getting on it, even if I have to drag you. Just… stay with me, alright?"

"Don't think I can oblige…" His voice is barely a whisper now, Comstock closing his hand around Elizabeth's, "This was my… my second chance, to do right by you. Now it's your turn… just wish I could have seen you to Paris. Elizabeth, I'm sorry…"

"I… Comstock? Comstock?!" Fresh panic grips Elizabeth as Comstock's hand goes slack and his eyes close. "No, c'mon… we're… we're almost free of all this madness!" Shaking Comstock by the shoulder while still holding his hand tight, Elizabeth barely feels the tears rolling down her cheeks; she can't accept it, even though the rational part of her knows it was inevitable.

"Elizabeth…" The other Elizabeth kneels beside her, gently wrapping an arm around Elizabeth's shoulder. "It's over… he's gone."

Having it spoken aloud somehow makes Comstock's passing seem more… concrete for Elizabeth, the reality of his death only now sinking in. Sitting back on her heels, Elizabeth can only give her other self a plaintive look before turning back to Comstock; it's all the exhausted Elizabeth can manage, sitting on the cold, hard floor and holding her companion's hand.

The other Elizabeth remains by her side, a silent, sympathetic presence. And while Elizabeth's overwhelmed by loss, she's grateful that at least she doesn't have to endure it alone.

"But I will be…" The dismal thought lingers in Elizabeth's mind, somehow adding to her misery.

Time has little meaning to her, so Elizabeth has no idea how long she's been sitting there when the shortwave comes to life, the radio left forgotten on the workbench with the shorted-out Ion Laser and interrupting the monotony of dripping water. "Darlin', you reading me? Come on, now; your chariot's just about arrived, but don't take too long getting there. Ryan won't be distracted much longer." The radio falls silent once more, Sinclair's message kept short and concise.

"C'mon, Elizabeth, we have to go." The other Elizabeth heaves a sigh before climbing to her feet. But Elizabeth doesn't move, barely even reacting to Sinclair's message or her counterpart.

"We aren't leaving him here." Looking up to the other her, Elizabeth wipes her nose and her drying tears with her sleeve, "I'm not being sentimental… we can't leave him for Ryan to find. He'll…"

"Okay… okay." Elizabeth's counterpart moves around Comstock's body, kneels and slips his arm over her shoulders, retrieving her revolver and holstering it at the same time, "You're right, Elizabeth, but I doubt I'll be able to do this on my own. Figure you can handle his other arm?"

Nodding, Elizabeth follows suit with Comstock's left arm, and the pair leave Testing, the Ion Laser and the fallen Big Daddy behind. Her wounds and fatigue make it a struggle to keep up with her other self, but Elizabeth perseveres, giving her best effort and only lagging behind now and then. Fortunately, their way is clear; in its pursuit, Gamma had mostly plowed through the rubble between the ADAM lab and Arrival, allowing the Elizabeths to pass through without much added difficulty.

It takes some minutes for the pair to reach the submarine bay, and Elizabeth is about ready to collapse by the time they step through the hatch. And while she half-expected to find the bay empty or have some other betrayal awaiting them, Sinclair was true to his word; in the center of the spherical room, beneath a large vaulting crane floats a light blue bathysphere.

"A '56 Stingray… huh. Say what you want about him, Sinclair has good taste…"

"Huh, what are the odds?" The other Elizabeth shakes her head, "Doesn't matter. C'mon."

Boarding the bathysphere is a bit tricky, but soon Elizabeth's collapsing on the vessel's cushioned seat, Comstock beside her and the other Elizabeth sealing the cabin. "It's almost over…" Mumbling, Elizabeth glances over to Comstock; he looks almost peaceful, beneath the blood and signs of splicing.

"Well, now that's not something you see every day." A voice suddenly fills the bathysphere's cabin, Elizabeth jumping while her counterpart draws her revolver. It takes her a moment to realize who it belongs to. "I don't suppose that's your twin sister, darlin'?"

"Sinclair? I…" Looking around, Elizabeth's eyes narrow as she finds the source; a radio near the cabin's ceiling, right next to what looks like a camera lens. "What's the meaning of this?"

"No harm intended, I'm a man of my word and simply meant to see you off; the camera's just a… means of deterring theft. I must say, your doppelganger there has piqued my curiosity, but I suppose that's neither here nor there. Best get a move on; if the Tin Daddy caught a glimpse of the both of you, I'd bet dollars to donuts that Ryan knows she's here, too. The Alphas had a camera built into their helmets."

"Of course they did…" A groan escapes the other Elizabeth, and she holsters her weapon before turning back to the bathysphere's controls, "Here we go."

"Okay…" Settling back into her seat, Elizabeth looks up to the camera once more as the bathysphere dives, "Thanks, Sinclair."

"Don't mention it, darlin', and my condolences. So long, Miss Elizabeth, and safe travels."

The Stingray glides effortlessly out of the submarine bay and out into open water, the bathysphere's headlights flickering on. Ahead lies the bright lights and buildings of the city, and a peculiar glow emanates from somewhere beneath them, but Elizabeth doesn't care; she just stares straight ahead as the other Elizabeth pilots the Stingray, the bathysphere angling up towards the surface and leaving the glitz, glamour and madness of Rapture behind.

* * *

 **Author's Note: And there you have it, the end of the resurrected Elizabeth's journey through Rapture. Of course, the story isn't quite done yet; she's out of Rapture, but there's one last chapter coming, though it will be an epilogue, so it (probably) won't be full-length. Speaking of length, this chapter kind of got away from me there, but there was a lot of material I wanted to cover here (that, and writing fight scenes are still the most difficult for me.) Still, I'm happy with how it turned out, even if I did spend far too long trying to finish it; on the other hand, I'm less than happy with the chapter title, and I'll be changing it if I can figure out something more suitable.**

 **Thanks for reading and following Elizabeth and Comstock as they fought through Rapture. When I started this, it was just an idea that I thought worth exploring, but I never thought it would end up at nineteen (soonish to be twenty) chapters long. Again, thanks for checking it out, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter.**


	20. Epilogue

**For new readers, this story is based off of and is tied into several other pieces of mine. If you're not sure where to start, I'd suggest finding Bioshock Infinite: Unbroken, as well as its prequel Unbroken: Song of Sorrow and the continuation Unbroken: I'm Home. Thanks for checking it out.**

 **There is now a timeline of sorts for the various chapters on my profile page, just an attempt to make it a little easier to see what happens when in relation to other chapters.**

 **Foreword: Two things I'd like to point out. First, the bulk of the chapter takes place shortly after the last, but doesn't start there. Second, there's a lot of conversation between the two Elizabeths, which could get potentially confusing. If all went well, the transitions between time frames should be pretty clear, and hopefully which Elizabeth is talking during their chat is also clear.**

* * *

July 29, 1960, 9:00 AM

"Hey, look who it is. Morning, Beth."

"Morning, Vic." Flashing a warm smile as she steps into the crowded, smoky coffeehouse, Elizabeth pauses to remove her sunglasses and tuck it into her handbag. "Looks like it's as lively as ever in here."

The young man behind the counter grins back, blushing slightly, "There's an empty table by the old espresso machine…"

"No, thank you. I think I'll take one of the tables outside." While the atmosphere of the Italian coffeehouse is warm and inviting, it's a beautiful morning, and Elizabeth wouldn't mind some fresh air with breakfast. "Cappuccino and a mille-feuille, please."

"The usual. Sure thing, Ms. Elizabeth."

Backing away from the counter, Elizabeth glances around the coffeehouse while waiting for her breakfast, idly looking over the assorted busts, statuettes, photographs and Renaissance-era paintings that adorn the walls. An eclectic mix, but Elizabeth finds it part of the appeal of Caffe Reggio; the old coffeehouse is roughly a mile walk from her apartment in the Lower East Side, but the atmosphere, the people and the coffee is enough that she'll visit two or three times a week. Especially if she's up late for work the night before.

"Here you go; one cappuccino and a Napoleon." Vic reappears after a couple minutes, setting her coffee and pastry down on the counter, "So how'd your performance go last night?"

"Hmm?" The question catches her by surprise, Elizabeth pausing as she searches her purse for some cash; she doesn't remember telling Vic she was singing last night. "Oh… it went fine. There were less patrons at the lounge than usual, but what can you do about the rain?" Paying for her breakfast, Elizabeth gives the young man another smile and turns to leave, "Thanks, Vic."

Stepping out of the coffeehouse and onto Macdougal Street, Elizabeth takes a seat at one of the small tables outside Caffe Reggio, setting her breakfast down on the worn, dark wooden surface and her handbag on an unused chair. While the din of New York traffic, isn't the ideal backdrop for a relaxing meal, Elizabeth's grown accustomed to it. "I can't believe it has already been a year…"

Closing her eyes, Elizabeth takes a slow, deep breath, the rich aroma of the cappuccino pleasant and invigorating. The smell of the coffee isn't the only strong scent, however; the odor of cigarette smoke still clings to Elizabeth, the acrid, slightly musty clouds that swirl inside the coffeehouse seeming to have followed her outside, mixing with the scents of fresh coffee and pastries.

Smoking is one habit she's glad to have not entirely fallen back into, but there's something about that smell that triggers a very specific memory, one that Elizabeth can still recall as if it happened yesterday. "After all this time, all the pain… and it's a cigarette that reminds me of that night…"

* * *

May 16, 1959, 2:15 AM

All is calm and quiet on the surface. The ocean gently laps at the rocks and smooth stone of Rapture's lighthouse, the soothing, rhythmic sound a far cry from the howls of monsters and crashing metal that came before. There is barely the faintest of breezes, but a light fog rises from the sea, shrouding the solitary lighthouse and catching the light from it electric lamps. And Elizabeth sits alone at the water's edge, a cigarette hanging loosely from her fingers as she watches the moon inch closer and closer to the horizon.

"It's so quiet… peaceful… almost eerily tranquil…" The way the fog diffuses the moonlight only supports her notion, lending an ethereal, dreamlike quality to Elizabeth's surroundings.

Slowly massaging her neck with her left hand, Elizabeth wearily brings the cigarette to her lips and takes a long, leisurely draw; while she's not about to fall back into the habit, Elizabeth needs something, anything, and she's going to savor the warm, calming sensation the cigarette offers.

"Not as if I have another, anyway…" Breathing a small plume of smoke, the scent briefly mingling with the briny sea air before dissipating, Elizabeth heaves a deep, exhausted sigh; most of the cigarettes in the pack she'd found turned out to be soggy, only this one still serviceable. "For the best, I suppose, but still…"

Quiet footfalls approach from behind, Elizabeth glancing back to find her other self coming down the steps. The 'real' Elizabeth, as she'd thought of the other Elizabeth since learning of her counterpart. She has a hundred questions for her other self, but right now, they all seem distant, trivial.

"Hey… how are you holding up?" Elizabeth gives her counterpart a sideways glance as the other girl takes a seat beside her, looking at her askance and arching an eyebrow. "Right… foolish question."

Shaking her head, Elizabeth offers her other self the cigarette, her counterpart hesitating for a second before taking it. And she can't help but stare at the other Elizabeth; there's something uncanny about seeing herself looking nearly identical to how she did on the day Booker broke into her tower, while at the same time dressed much the same as their father. Only the long, blue ribbon tying back her hair and the bird brooch on her choker stand out as different, Elizabeth's gaze lingering on the unassuming piece of jewelry.

"I'm… just trying to keep myself together." Clasping her bandaged hands in front of her, Elizabeth grimaces slightly, her wounds stinging beneath the canvas strips. "Comstock said this is my second chance, to have a life of my won, but… how? I've never had anything close to normal in my life, so how do I even begin to have one?" If she wasn't already physically and emotionally drained, Elizabeth wonders if she would be tearing up right about now.

"Elizabeth…"

"Ha…" Shaking her head again, Elizabeth rubs her face slowly before turning to face her original, the other her placing the cigarette between her lips, "Do you remember when we spoke in Neptune's Bounty? What I said before you sent me to retrieve this Plasmid?" Elizabeth snaps her fingers, a small flame suddenly appearing on the tip of her thumb, "I thought I was just… your shadow, a poor genetic copy made by Ryan. You said otherwise and… I suppose you're right. But I'm still all alone, I don't even have Comstock anymore…" The thought of Comstock sends a pang of regret and sorrow through Elizabeth, her companion's body still in the bathysphere that floats on the far side of the lighthouse.

"You're not…" A sudden fit of coughing interrupts her other self, she nearly dropping the cigarette as she hastily covers her mouth and smoke escapes between her fingers. And despite her melancholy, Elizabeth can't help giggling softly at her counterpart's difficulty with the cigarette. "Ugh… I haven't had one of these in years…"

Elizabeth waits patiently as her other self catches her breath and takes another draw from the cigarette, carefully this time. "You're not alone, Elizabeth." Exhaling slowly, the original Elizabeth continues once the last of the smoke is swirling in the night air, handing the cigarette back as she goes, "We may be worlds apart, but we're sisters."

"Sisters, huh?" A grin teases at Elizabeth's lips, and she looks up at the foggy night sky while bringing what's left of her cigarette to her lips, "Suppose I needed to hear that… thank you. But… you and I need to have a little talk, Elizabeth."

"What?"

"Well…" Elizabeth takes a deep breath, the numerous questions that were vaguely buzzing around in the back of her mind coming into focus. "How does it end, down there? I learned some of what happened to you when Ryan revived me, but… Sally and the other Little Sisters… and what about Booker? How did he…?" Despite her best efforts, Elizabeth's questions start tripping over each other. She stops when she spies an amused grin on her other self's lips, blushing and a touch embarrassed.

"It's… a long story, answering slowly, Elizabeth's original leans forward, rests her elbows on her knees and interlaces her fingers, "and it's not something I care to remember, but I suppose I owe you that much. I returned to Rapture to save Sally, and to do that, I was willing to… let myself die to set everything in motion." A haunted look appears in her eyes.

"There's always a lighthouse. There's always a man, there's always a city. For Rapture, that man is named Jack… he saves Sally and the other Little Sisters. But returning caused me to collapse… I couldn't see the doors, couldn't remember anything I had seen, what was going to happen, even why I came back in the first place. I woke up a normal girl… surrounded by Atlas' thugs."

She holds up her right hand, Elizabeth's gaze quickly focusing on her counterpart's pinky, the finger conspicuously whole just as hers is. "I was confused, scared… and it only got worse. By the end, I felt… like I sent myself to the slaughter for nothing. My mind created a phantom of Booker to guide me, but…" Her voice falters, the other Elizabeth shuddering and leaving the rest unsaid.

"I guess I have that to thank for the 'voice in my head' act." Taking one last draw from the cigarette, Elizabeth drops the smoldering stub and puts it out, "At the end, Booker came to the rescue?"

The smile that spreads across her counterpart's lips practically radiates warmth, Elizabeth easily imagining that the memory is a treasured one. "He did. Robert came to him a year after Comstock would have taken Anna to Columbia, with promises of answers; Booker was having visions of us in Columbia… and nightmares of me in Rapture…"

Elizabeth nods, sensing the other Elizabeth's hesitation, but also that she has plenty more she could say. And as much as she would like to hear about her counterpart's and Booker's time in Rapture, Elizabeth's exhaustion could catch up with her at any time, and she has other questions she needs to ask.

"So… how is he?" Another grin appears on her counterpart's lips.

"He's doing well." The other Elizabeth answers without missing a beat, "Much the same as you remember, but he gave up the smoking, drinking and gambling. Although… there are times that he looks like he could use a drink; when the Luteces are about, Anna's being stubborn, or we're fighting…"

The nearly full moon disappears below the horizon as Elizabeth listens to her counterpart, the other girl telling her a little about her life in New York: living as a family with Booker and Anna, and learning who their mother was; her relationship with their grandmotherly neighbor, Ms. Pearl; working with their father as a private investigator; and the few friends she's made, particularly Xiang. Even keeping it brief, the original Elizabeth's account takes several minutes. And while she enjoys hearing it, the tale leaves Elizabeth feeling homesick, a sad, wistful smile touching her lips; she can never go 'home', and that makes the longing just that much worse.

"Family, friends, a home… it sounds wonderful… and normal."

"Normal..." The other Elizabeth scoffs softly, "It is, but we're still DeWitts. Crazy has a way of finding us…" She pauses and turns her gaze to Elizabeth, the look in her eyes changing subtly, "You know… you could come back with me…"

"No." Elizabeth shakes her head quickly, and she's almost surprised with how sure of herself she sounds. Turning to look her 'sister' in the eye, Elizabeth gives her a small smile, "That's your life, Elizabeth. I need to figure something out for myself." The original Elizabeth begins to say something, but hesitates, and she nods solemnly after a moment.

The 'sisters' turn their gaze back to the dark ocean, although the setting of the moon leaves little to see beyond the glow of the lighthouse's electric lamps and the wall of fog. There's plenty left for them to say, but Elizabeth's myriad questions have retreated once more into the back of her mind, and neither of them care much to discuss their ordeals in the city beneath them. Listening to the waves with her twin is an odd but calming experience, and Elizabeth's eyelids steadily grow heavy.

When next she opens her eyes, confusion floods Elizabeth's drowsy mind; she doesn't know how she ended up like this, but now she's lying on her side with her head resting on something warm and comfortable. The next thing she notices is a hand gently stroking her hair, and soft, quiet humming fills the air.

"Oh…" Blinking groggily, Elizabeth sighs, her mind piecing everything together, "I must have dozed off…" The hand stroking her hair pauses for a moment, Elizabeth's 'sister' likely realizing she's awake. "Um…how… how long was I…?"

"Not long." Her twin stops humming just long enough to answer.

Lying there on the hard stone and with her head on her 'sister's' lap, Elizabeth's briefly tempted to just close her eyes again and drift off to sleep. Instead, she slowly sits up, blinking the sleep from her eyes and groaning softly as her twin stops her song. "Much obliged… what… what was that song you were humming?" The tune sounds familiar to Elizabeth, but she can't quite place it.

"Ah… it's called 'La Vie en Rose'. It was played over the radio while we were living in Rapture."

"Oh. I… think I remember how it goes…" Elizabeth looks up for a moment at the starless sky, the lyrics and tempo of the chanson rising from the depths of memory. And for reasons she's not quite sure of, Elizabeth starts humming the tune herself, her 'sister' joining in with a small, lopsided smile.

The song lasts no more than a few minutes, but as their voices rise above the waves and into the night, a sense of peace settles over Elizabeth; the uncertain future seems just that much less daunting, and all she suffered through in Rapture weighs a little less on her. And as their duet comes to an end, polite applause comes from behind, Elizabeth somehow not surprised when she looks back; the Lutece twins stand at the top of the steps, their appearance exactly as Elizabeth remembers.

"I suppose it's time…" Picking herself up, Elizabeth groans again as her battered body protests. "I guess this is goodbye."

"Yeah… for now." Elizabeth's 'sister' climbs to her feet as well, "Have you decided where you want to go?"

"I have…" Starting up the steps with her 'sister' beside her, Elizabeth has to stifle a yawn; she's about ready to pass out, but Elizabeth has no intention of letting that happen. "New York. Paris was always a dream, but it can wait…"

A Tear opens behind the Luteces as the Elizabeths reach the top of the steps, Elizabeth seeing a city's skyline and stars through the wavering, shimmering door; her 'sister's' and Booker's New York, but a New York many years past. And the other Elizabeth stops as they come to the threshold.

"Take care of yourself, Elizabeth." Her 'sister' gives her another lopsided grin and hugs her, Elizabeth returning the embrace, "Good luck."

"You, too…" a hint of tears begin to well up, Elizabeth's eyes starting to sting, "and take care of Booker. Elizabeth, thank you…" She releases the embrace as she whispers her thanks, not wanting to get too emotional before her 'sister' departs. If the other Elizabeth realizes this, she doesn't say so, only hesitantly stepping through the Tear and waving goodbye as it closes.

"Well…" Wiping at her eyes with her tattered, dirty sleeve, Elizabeth turns her attention to the Luteces, the twins being uncharacteristically silent, "What now?" She has questions for the Luteces as well, but not a one she would consider constructive.

"We shall take you where you need to go." Rosalind answers in her usual tone, her expression just as unperturbed as ever. "As well as see to Comstock's body; he cannot be found-"

"Lest he be revived and imprisoned once more." Robert pipes up next, continuing Rosalind's sentence, "No trace of him can be left behind, and neither can he be returned from whence he came. If you wish to say your farewells-"

"No." Elizabeth shakes her head quickly; she still doesn't quite understand her feeling for this Comstock, but he's gone, and she doesn't see a point in talking to an empty shell. Besides, she already said her goodbyes.

"Very well." Another Tear appears as Rosalind gestures, this hole in space appearing before the lighthouse doors. "There is much to be done once you arrive, but first, a question."

"Huh?" Looking back from the Tear, Elizabeth cocks an eyebrow; the Luteces carry crimson, velvet pillows, with a box resting on each. "Oh, you're not serious…"

* * *

July 29, 1960, 9:15 AM

"Of course, I'd pick the bird…"

Shaking her head as she touches the silver bird brooch, Elizabeth looks at her reflection in the nearest window of the coffeehouse; she hasn't changed her appearance much from her time living in Rapture, the look and mannerisms she adopted in the underwater city serving her just as well on the surface. "And it's not just to distinguish myself from my sister..."

Elizabeth still wears her hair in long, loose curls, though she's stopped dyeing it and allowed the natural dark brown color to return; not that it really matters, her tresses still appearing black in anything that isn't close to natural light. Her skin tone has returned to normal, as well.

Her taste in clothes hasn't changed much, Elizabeth's small wardrobe made up of mostly blouses and skirts with a handful of dresses. And Elizabeth must be feeling particularly nostalgic today, for she picked out the same blouse and skirt ensemble that she wore back in Rapture, the bird brooch clasped to the red ribbon tied about her neck; it had taken a lot of work to mend and clean the outfit after arriving in New York, but for some reason, it felt important to do so.

"I wonder how she's doing…" Muttering softly, Elizabeth sips at her cappuccino; the Luteces had explained the time difference between Elizabeth and her sister, among other things that the other Elizabeth was a couple years older than her that night.

While time is relative when it comes to Tears, it still may be a while before they see each other again. And Elizabeth has a few things to talk about with her sister, although the most important matter is also one she isn't certain she should; the pair of a redheaded Vox and the sleeping girl who appeared in her Athena's Glory apartment. "I still can't believe I let that slip my mind…"

Taking a bite of her pastry, Elizabeth reaches into her handbag to retrieve her latest purchase, and she settles in to read with her cup of coffee in hand. " _To Kill a Mockingbird_..." A smile teases at Elizabeth's lips as she reads the title; copy or not, she's still a certified bibliophile, as anyone who's seen her small apartment can attest. The din of traffic and the clamor of pedestrians quickly fade away as Elizabeth starts reading.

However, as much as she'd like to get lost in her book, a tugging on her sleeve interrupts Elizabeth before she's even ten pages in, the young woman frowning as she looks up. What she finds stops her cold; wide blue eyes staring at her over the green railing that separates Caffe Reggio from the sidewalk, eyes belonging to a little blonde girl. "Elizabeth?"

"Are you…?"

"Sally!" A shout comes from down the street, Elizabeth jerking around to see a man running towards her and the little girl. "Sally, you can't run off…" The man freezes as his gaze turns to Elizabeth, recognition clear in his eyes.

"You… you must be Jack. Elizabeth told me a little about you." Closing her book and rising from her chair, Elizabeth gives the confused Jack and Sally a warm smile, "Pleased to meet you… and I think we need to have a long talk."

* * *

 **Author's Note: That's it for A Second Chance, it's been an interesting experience writing it, and I hope it's been just as interesting for you to read. As I mentioned before, I never imagined the story would get this long when I started it, and there have been several points along the way that were simply difficult to work out. That being said, I'm happy with where the story took me, as well as how this epilogue turned out. And who knows what else Elizabeth will be involved in, now that she's come face to face with Jack and Sally; it's been a while, but this Elizabeth's encounter with those two comes the morning after Booker and Elizabeth returned to their own time, after visiting with Jack, Sally and the other Little Sisters. So, about a year and four months behind where I'm Home is at.**

 **Exploring Rapture during the height of the civil war and the relationship between Elizabeth and Comstock has been fun. Thanks reading and for coming with me on this ride, and I'd appreciate hearing what you think about this Elizabeth's story.**

 **Note: As usual, I'll be looking for errors at a later date, though I make no guarantees I'll catch all of them; I'm still finding minor errors and mistakes in much older chapters when I go back to reference something. I'm also trying something different with my writing, and it seems to be helping with concentration and focus. Hopefully I'll have something new before the end of the year. Happy holidays.**


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